Britain's Ordeal: a YW and HP Crossover
by lys phillips
Summary: Nita has a dream about a baby, a merciless killer, and two words: Avada Kedavra. She journeys to England to counter the boundless evil behind them, along the way discovering a country with lost wizardry because of a Power with a big heart.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Lord Voldemort remembers when he recieved his Manual, and surrendered his life and purpose. He remembers the years following, all events leading up to this moment. War.**

**Chapter One**

It had been fifty years. Fifty years since that climactic day in the Hogwarts library. Fifty years since Lord Voldemort, then a studious Tom Riddle, had found his destiny in the form of a small book.

Softly caressing Naigini's back, Lord Voldemort recalled that day.

He had been hastily preparing for his exams, for it was toward the end of his 3rd year. He had a reputation to uphold. All professors adored him; he reckoned that he could've used all three Unforgivable Curses, and they would've skirted over it, gushing about his academic achievements. But their view of him might change, he realized, if he didn't study hard and excel in his exams.

As Hogwarts had become his 2nd home, its library turned into his 3rd. He spent his nights there pouring over spell book after spell book; his coffee mug and wand light were his midnight companions. His classmates watched in awe, but not in envy, as Tom lived the pre-exam weeks in a world composed only of his books, his notes and his quill. It grew inevitable that one day the constant stream of facts would become too much for his thirteen year old body. Finally the day arrived where he was sick of it. His head was swimming with the words of the textbooks he had just finished trying to memorize. Usually he enjoyed reading, but after inhaling schoolbooks for hours now, he was ready for a change of pace.

Like _that_ book, by his mug of hot cocoa.

Funny, Tom thought reaching for the book, he didn't remember pulling it off the shelves. But he must have, even if he didn't recognize the title. "A Tale of Two Powers," he read, softly. He furrowed his brow, trying to place why it seemed so familiar and yet... not. His confusion only worsened when the room suddenly went black.

It took him a while to realize that he hadn't been knocked unconscious. He could still see himself, for he seemed to be producing a glow. It was the rest of the room that had been enveloped in darkness. He looked around, but he could make out nothing, not even hazy silhouettes, of the Hogwarts' library. Had he been transported somewhere else? Tom reached out to feel for the table that had been in front of him and only caught air. His stomach jumped a slight when he realized that there was nothing there. Tentatively, he waved his arms around himself... Nothing. What kind of Dark Magic had taken him here, and why?

He stared straight in front of him, willing his eyes to focus in the darkness. Tom could make something out, but not because his eyes were adjusting. The book was slowly illuminating itself. Soon Tom Riddle and that mysterious book _A Tale of Two Powers_ were the only things visible in the extreme darkness.

Then he heard it. A voice he could only describe as being both inside his head and coming from the darkness around him. Neither male, nor female, this voice called out to Tom.

"Hello, Tom Marvalo Riddle."

Tom Riddle would have fallen back in his chair, if there was a chair to fall back on. Tom wondered what it was he seemed to be sitting on, when it just looked, and felt, like empty air to him. Tom stood up, a bit uncomfortable about sitting on nothing. He then tried to set his uneasiness aside, took a deep breath and attempted to understand the situation he'd been put in.

"Who are you? What are you? Where are you?" Tom's voice had started out demanding, but ended panicked. An adversary in the shadows is one to be afraid of; Tom considered anyone unknown to him his enemy. How was Tom supposed to fight this opponent if the _battleground_ was shrouded in shadows?

Tom heard the rustling of papers and his eyes fell to the book. It had opened, and its pages now turned, as if a wind had picked up suddenly. It wasn't long before the book stilled, its pages staring up at Tom.

"Read it, Tom."

Was this an answer to his questions? Was that why the unattached voice wanted him to read it? Tom stepped forward to see the book more clearly.

It was a table of contents. Tom tried to understand how these unfamiliar words could possibly answer any of his questions. He perused the page for a few seconds, annoyed that there didn't seem to be anything important there, or if there was, that he couldn't see it.

"Claudification?" What did this have to do with anything? He still had no answer to why he had been kidnapped to this realm of shadows. Tom stepped back from the book, thinking hard about what he'd gotten himself into. He hadn't felt a spell being shot at him; surely he would've noticed that. It had all happened so quickly, yet he cursed himself for not paying better attention. Now he had no idea where he was, and he wasn't getting the kind of answers he needed from the bodiless being or the book. "I would like to know what's going on," After a second's thought Tom added, "Please." It had worked on his teachers and it seemed to work on this invisible being too.

The pages of the book turned rapidly, pushed by a wind that Tom couldn't feel. The wind died as abruptly as it started, stopping on two pages that were taken up by a rectangle created by thin lines. A picture appeared inside the rectangle, revealing it to be a screen. Tom was so intrigued by this that when the invisible entity began to narrate, he was startled. Though he jumped slightly, his eyes never tore away from the book. This was important, Tom knew, and he wouldn't miss a thing.

"It begins at the beginning of the Universe,"

And all of a sudden there was a big bang. Meteors began flying about coming from a single tear in what had been nothing. Matter and light crowded what had once been empty space. Tom was transfixed. The narrator went on.

"Speed up a few eons and we have the making of your little planet. More specifically the farthest west region of the Eastern hemisphere what you now call 'Europe'."

A globe of what Earth must have looked like in the oldest B.C. appeared. The Earth whirled on its axis until it reached the spot that the Voice spoke of.

"Each one of the Powers chose which area in which they wished to create Life. The One divided up your Earth just has He had done all other planets, so we could mold it as we chose—"

"Wait!" Tom cried. The simulation stopped and the omnipresent being sounded a little bit impatient when it asked, "What is it?"

Tom chose his words carefully so as not to anger the being. "Do you mean to tell me that you created the Universe?"

Now there was definite impatience in Its voice. "Yes, I did. Have I not made it clear? I am a Power, only a Power could have brought you here, to empty space, and still have the power to keep you alive."

Empty space? Tom looked around him and tried to imagine another area that would've had this effect. Not having thought of one he moved onto the next question. "You call yourself a 'Power', but I fail to see exactly what that is,"

There was silence and then a deafening roar. "Do you not know? Are you really that ignorant? A Power, _the_ Powers are the ones who created this pathetic Universe. We have power beyond your feeble comprehension. We live outside your mortal universe. We move beyond the rules of Time, while Time means the eventual end for you. And I was the one who made it so! Do you not know me? I am the Lone Power, the Inventor of Death, the Master of Entropy, and the Creator of what will eventually befall your universe. The _End_."

The booming loudness of Its voice and the extreme malice emanating from It made Tom decide that his last question had been stupid and had made him look like an idiot. It was obvious that this Power did not waste Its time with ignoramuses, and because Tom did not want to be left in empty space without the life jacket this Power was providing, he would have to try not to ask stupid questions in the future. His next one, however, he couldn't help asking.

"If you are one of these Powers, then what do you need me for? Why waste your time with a mere mortal?"

The voice lost Its volume, but none of its malice. Tom's eardrums didn't cry out in pain from Its reply, but Tom's heart still beat itself silly with the evil stemming from Its voice. "There is a score I need you to settle, and rather than come down and do it myself I want you to do it for me. Now watch and no more interruptions please,"

Tom was a bit ticked that this Power felt like It could use him as a tool. He didn't feel like being anybody's pawn. Yet the Power was the only thing keeping Tom alive. He hated that as well. The fact that he feared and was annoyed with this being yet he had to rely on It. Tom turned back to the screen.

It now showed a more specific picture. The camera was hovering in low stratosphere. Mountains seemed to be rising themselves out of the earth, and rivers flowed out of thin air and spilled themselves on the once bare ground. Tom's eyes widened as he realized what he was witnessing. They were making the Earth.

"There was a particular patch of the planet that I favored. I wanted it for my own, to cultivate it into one of the greatest war empires on your Earth. My little sister, whom the One so fondly calls the 'Bright One', wanted it also. She sensed what I wanted to do with it and disapproved. We had both already claimed other parts of your Earth. The other Powers seeing that my patch of Earth was bigger, sided with my sister and urged me to let her have it. I refused and we went to war.

"I gave my people weapons that could wipe out armies at a time. I thought I could win, but my sister tricked me!" Its voice rose with hatred, "She gave all of HER children the gift of wizardry. It was wizardry against weapons, and the wizardry won."

On the screen a war raged. Light versus Dark. Wizardry versus Weaponry. And although Tom didn't understand half of what was being said, he was still mesmerized by the scene depicted on the page. This magic the people were doing was fantastic. And without wands! Only the most skilled of wizards knew how to do that.

The battle Tom was watching eased to an end. The Dark forces on the Lone Power's side fell, and the Light armies raised their voices in triumph.

"If I have one victory it is this: The One said that the Bright One had created too many wizards and that she would have to reduce it so that the number of wizards and the number of those without wizardry were balanced."

On the scene a beautiful being of light appeared, the light radiating from her wrapped around the people she had created as if protecting them.

"The Bright One didn't want that. She didn't trust me even though she had won. She knew me too well for that. She wanted her creations to be well armed when we fought again, for we would fight again. In an imbecilic waste of Power, the Bright One gave some of her wizardry to her creations. The 'magic', she called it, would be passed down from parent to child so that her citizens were well armed whenever I chose to attack again. There were side effects at least. With too many wizards the magic provided had to be denoted down. The magic that they had wouldn't be as strong as it would have been, had they been born natural wizards. Their magic could only be channeled through use of a wand and even then it still wasn't as powerful. The 'Bright One' changed the rules for that country and suffered the consequences. Giving up her status as Power she became the country's first wand maker. Inside the wand reveals the story of how the country came to be, written in the Speech. Though most of your kind never bother to look. Only the wand-makers knew of the sacrifice my little sister was forced to make. They had to for they were the ones who engraved that story in every wand. The Speech was wizard's language, the language of the Powers, and the language of all things living or non-living. It was the Speech and the story in every wand that made them work. Only natural wizards, wizards who would have possessed wizardry even if the Bright Power hadn't given it to everyone, could make wands for only they understood the Speech.

"My sister died a mortal and soon after the wand-makers stopped telling her tale. They quickly forgot about her altogether, and soon their understanding of the speech was lost. They knew how to weave the characters together, and could still write them for the power of wizardry was still in their heart, but without understanding of the story the power wasn't nearly as great.

"Time went on and natural wizards became few far in between."

At the words 'time went on' the screen began showing a visual timeline. Tom watched as the history of Great Britain unfolded. Only not Muggle Great Britain, but wizard's Great Britain. He watched as their power diminished, from the Great War at the creation of Great Britain, to almost nothing in comparison. Then Tom saw the history that was taught in his textbooks, the one current historians knew of. It had been one Professor Binns had taught him, but now he was seeing things in a different light. If what the Lone Power said was true… If Tom wasn't just dreaming all of this… Then that would mean…

Tom wanted to break open his own wand to find this story written. He wanted to know if this was all true. Because if it was… Tom could learn the Speech, and use it to become the most powerful wizard. He wouldn't tell anyone about what he had learned, for what fun is it being in power with someone else? No. Maybe Tom would become a wand-maker, or at least an apprentice only so he could learn how to make one. And then he'd make a powerful one. The most powerful wand they'd ever seen. He'd wipe out all who opposed him with this wand, and when his admirers asked him of his secrets he'd just smile mysteriously…

But instead of breaking out his wand and dissecting it, he managed to stay still and watch the history of magic fall on the screen.

They were quickly approaching the twentieth century. Tom wondered whether this book's screen would show the future and he leaned forward eagerly for that. But the picture the screen stopped on was not of the future, it was a picture of Tom.

"What?" was all Tom could say.

"Time went on," the Lone Power continued, "and I still hadn't raised an army to declare war on my sister's. I never felt that I needed to. In my opinion my sister was gone and so I had won. But then I got wind of some news. My sister was being re-born. She, of course, needed a mortal shell to do this. I want to prepare for that moment. I want to be ready with an army when she comes. And I want you, Tom, to build it for me."

To hadn't looked away from his picture on the screen, but now he turned away from it to examine what the Lone One had said.

"Build an army for you?" Tom asked.

His first thought was why him? What made him special? But Tom was beginning to get excited about this. Beginning? No, he was already overly enthusiastic about everything the Lone One was saying. Especially about the power. He didn't have time to think 'Why me'; he could only think 'Lucky me'. And also…

"What's in it for me?"

He had been hesitant to ask this question. What if the Lone Power let him suffocate in Empty Space for asking something so arrogant and greedy? After all, It had already given him information that no other wizard was aware of, was Tom selfish to ask for more?

Perhaps the Lone Power didn't think so. "This," came Its reply. The book closed and began to float towards Tom. Tom put out his hands to receive it, frowning, a little disappointed. "A book?" Sure it had a cool Never Before Seen movie playing inside of it, but was this all?

"No," the Lone Power answered, "POWER. The kind of power that no other wizard of Great Britain will be able to have. Tom Marvalo Riddle, you are the only natural-wizard in Great Britain."

Tom held his breath. This was just like the time where Dumbledore came to the orphanage and had announced that Tom was a wizard. Only more so. Much more so. The book began to glow brighter and Tom could feel it. He could feel the power flow into him.

The book flipped open a few pages. Tom felt as though he'd been put on a spotlight, even though the empty space was void of light. He felt eyes, as if the Lone Power had decided to lose the omni-present thing and was now in front of him staring at him, waiting for his decision.

"All you have to do is read these words,"

For a split second Tom felt antsy. You should always read a contract before you sign it right? But he felt the Lone Power getting impatient and he didn't want that. Besides, this was POWER. Tom would be the strongest of all wizards. Give this up? No way. Convinced, Tom began to read.

"In Entropy's name, and for Entropy's sake…"

Too caught up in the weight of this moment, Tom did not hear the faint, but menacing laughter in the distance…

Tom didn't hear from the Lone One for years. Decades. It had been almost half a century since he'd taken the oath. But the disappearance of the one who had given him the power had not diminished the power itself. Tom had found that his magic was now stronger than ever before. He wowed his teachers and the people around him by performing complex spells, and even creating some himself. Even though at first Tom had denounced the book as meaningless, he soon relied on the book for everything. In this book, the Manual it called itself, more rewarding and complex spells could be done. Rather than rely on the flick of a wand, Tom practiced drawing diagrams. At night in his dormitory he could be heard chanting a strange language. His roommates figured it was homework for Ancient Runes, and his Ancient Rune classmates figured Tom, the loner, had made up a language in which he could talk to himself. In actuality Tom was practicing the Speech. And he was getting good.

Tom never broke apart his wand. He stole a wand from another student, broke it apart and gazed at the ingredients. There, just as the Lone Power had said, was the story. The sentences of Speech were finely twirled around usual wand material, in this case a flaming red phoenix feather. Gingerly, Tom picked up the string of Speech and held it in his hand. There was the old story. He memorized every curve and every line of that story in the Speech. The story was important; it now stood as his purpose.

When Tom was not busy with his homework, he worked on translating the story. His true desire was to design a better wand, one more brilliant than Ollivander could ever make, and powerful enough that when faced with Albus Dumbledore, the old man would crack. And Tom was a loner no more.

Remembering his part of the deal, Tom busied making himself an army. He called them "friends" but really he thought of them as his soldiers. He chose only the best and the brightest, of three of the four houses. No Gryffindor ever joined him, but then he didn't expect them to. He had a powerful army of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and a majority of Slytherins. Each could do deadly things with a wand, but none had as much power as he. He liked it that way. He was the leader of this army and no one would upstage him.

In order to gather his soldiers, he had to adopt a belief that attracted them. His "cause". It was true that Tom hated those weaker than him, and who was weaker than Muggles? Unable to defend themselves with magic, or wizardry even. He'd seen what happened to those who relied on weaponry within the Lone One's presentation, and he thought them pathetic. So he bound his soldiers together on the face that he was against all non-magic, all those different and weaker than he. He couldn't tell them the real reason, or they would want his power for their own.

Of course there were those who heavily opposed what he was doing. Once Tom found that none of those who opposed him was a reincarnation of the Bright One he grew bored. His Death Eaters (his name for his army, clever isn't it?) took care of that. Things went smoothly and he was feared. The Bright One had yet to show, but when she did, he'd be ready.

And from the news Tom had just gotten, that day would be soon. An oracle had prophesied about his defeat, surely this meant the Bright One? Surely this meant that the war he had anticipated for 40 years was finally here?

It was the sudden sound of the Power's voice that made him certain. It came to him in a dream, and told him that the time had come. The mortal who would eventually harbor the Bright One had been born. It was up to Tom to make sure that he never grew old enough to have the Bright One reach full potential.

Tom set out to find and destroy that little one. After disposing of James Potter and Lily Evans, two who had faced against him many times before, the dark wizard grinned evily, knowing that the easiest part had come. Against the "Bright One", Tom used the most frightening spell in his Manual, known even throughout the wizarding world. The Killing Curse. One of the Unforgivable Curses, and most fitting for a charge of the Lone Power. Yet, even with that strong curse, and even with his power amplified past that of a regular wizard, Tom had been defeated.

Defeated, by a giggling, coo-ing _infant. _He expected the Lone One to be angry, but It only laughed ruefully. "you shouldn't have expected it to be so easy. That was not the real war, the real one has yet to come. When it does you and your army will be ready,"

Tom failed to see how that was possible; the boy had reduced him to little more than nothing. But he didn't have time to question the Power before It left him.

It would be 13 years before Tom would see the Lone Power again, or rather feel It because It was now inside of him. The next time the almost forgotten Power whispered Its instructions, Tom felt a stirring inside his newly reborn veins. Savoring being inside a strong, able body, Tom realized the Lone Power had been right. He had just faced Harry Potter, Harborer of the Bright One, for a 4th time, only this time Harry had revived him. Tom was strong now, stronger than ever. He had an army, this one even mightier with the former members and the addition their sons and daughters. Tom, now Lord Voldemort, stroked the head of his pet snake, and Naigini hissed in approval.

Both he and the Lone Power would get satisfaction from this battle. Lord Voldemort had developed a hatred for Harry Potter; he no longer felt as if it were just part of a deal that he destroy him. This time both he and the Lone One had great things to gain from winning this war. And Voldemort _would_ win this war.

**-lys phillips**


	2. Chapter 2

_If there ever was more of an evil presence, she had never felt it. It was as though the Lone Power himself were in the next room. And what if he was? Her heart hammered into her chest. Yes, this was just a dream, but since when had the boundaries of the mind ever stopped the Lone One before?_

_Nita tried to get her bearings. From what she could tell this was an large, old house. The floorboards looked as though they would fall through if she tried to step on them. Looking around, she gathered that she had landed in a bedroom... a baby's bedroom. A crib stood in the corner. A changing table was next to it. And all around, covering every spare inch of the walls were pictures. Nita presumed they were of the baby this roomed belonged to and his parents. A dark haired baby showed up frequently sometimes accompanied by a red haired woman with green eyes. Sometimes they were both found standing or sitting next to a man that the baby looked so much alike. They looked happy. Nita found herself smiling. A family._

_But there was something odd about those pictures. _

_The baby in one of the pictures began wailing. He made no sounds, but his mouth was open and his expression was that of anguish. Nita took a step backward and raised her eyebrows, but she hardly had time to dwell on the moving pictures when she heard a scream._

"Leave Harry! Take me instead!"

_The evil presence was coming closer. And, Nita feared, it was about to get that woman._

_Without thinking, Nita ran. She looked around for the door out of this bedroom, saw it was open, and hurried through it. Another scream rang out and she followed her way to it._

_Maybe she could save that woman. And Harry, maybe she could save him too. Nita knew that this was only a dream, but somehow the urgnecy of this situation was overpowering. Nita ran down the hallways, and was thankful when the next voice seemed closer. She was not thankful, however, when she recognized the voice. Bone-chillingly cold, it almost made her stop in her tracks. She didn't, instead using the evil voice as a way to find these people. _

"Move, you stupid girl!"

_But finding them seemed to be getting harder. The hallways were getting narrower and they were seemingly endless. Even though Nita was SURE that the voices were getting closer and even though she was running as fast as she could, she could see no evidence of this evil and whom he was trying to murder._

_Until..._

_She found a door. This door, Nita felt certain, had not been there before. Within seconds, it had appeared as the end of the hallway, when before Nita was sure there was no end. The door was closed but a halo of light surrounded the edges. Nita felt certain that this was the most important part of her dream. This was the climax, and if she could get past this door it would change everything._

_"_Avada Kedavra!"

_There was a flash of green light, a thud and then nothing._

_Nita was frightened. Someone had fallen. She didn't want to think about what she would face if she opened the door. She didn't want to think about who had fallen and who had won._

_Her hand grabbed the doorknob, twisted and the door swung open._

If fear didn't kill her, Nita was sure the unhealthy rapid beating of her heart would.

Breathing heavily, she took a few seconds to compose herself. When her breathing returned to more normal standards, she allowed herself to reflect on what just happened.

Nita wasn't quite sure. Her face twisted in the way that let anyone who was watching know that she was thinking hard about something. Nita reached for her manual lying on the desk beside her bed. She'd been hoping to catch up on some research last night, but hadn't gotten around to it before exhaustion took its toll. Now there was something she wanted to look up.

First she recorded her dream. The experience had been extremely vivid. Even now Nita could hear echoes of the conversation. They didn't sound like echoes, though; it sounded as though that woman was begging for mercy in her very room, the Lone One was ignoring her. And Nita was sure that had been the Lone Power on the other side of the door. Only the Power that had forsaken the rest could strike that much fear and anger into Nita's heart.

But Nita had met the Lone Power on several other occasions and never had she heard It utter such words.

_Avada Kedavra._

Something about those two words scared her. They were in the Speech, but unlike the usual words they weren't carefree, light with anticipation. These words were dripping with malice.

She was done recording the dream. She flipped through the manual until she reached the page she had been reading so thoroughly as part of her research. Nita was still ever interested in the Speech, learning new phrases and how it was used on different planets. But never in Nita's research had she come across these two words. Then again she hadn't come across the word for "pimple" and she WAS only fifteen, how extensive could her vocabulary be?

"Give me a page on _Avada Kedavra_," Nita told her manual.

The manual seemed hesitant. That was odd. It was even odder when Nita's manual, instead of giving her a page on the two mysterious words, flashed the words "Information not accessible to your level, please see nearest Senior."

So these words, Nita thought, were so evil, so forbidden, that a wizard at her level couldn't see them. Nita felt cold. She wasn't supposed to have heard them. These words weren't even supposed to have existed to her. But they had come to her in that dream. And as much as she wanted to run from these words --they struck THAT much fear into her-- she couldn't.

It was time for a visit to Tom and Carl.

Nita's hand was shaking. When that essence of the Lone One had said the words it sounded cruel and cold-blooded. But that was Its usual mode of talking. When Nita spoke the words she found her voice taking that tone involuntarily. Even to herself she sounded evil. And after she was finished with saying it she felt embarrassed and a little shaken. Words with such power shouldn't be said lightly.

Tom, evidently, felt the same way. "Never," he said, "say those words again." Nita nodded. With the way those words had twisted her voice, making her sound as though she worked beside the Lone One, she wouldn't have said the words anyway.

"W-what does it mean?" Nita was glad to see her voice had lost its evil quality and returned to normal.

Tom's glare seemed not to be pointed at Nita but rather at the space where the words seemed to linger. Almost automatically his right arm rose and his hand disappeared into an other space pocket. He rummaged around a bit until he found what he was looking for. Tom pulled it out, his manual, and began flipping pages. His hand rested on a page and Tom began to read.

"The Killing Curse," Tom read, "Never to be used, it is said to be the very words the Power That Fell used to embed entropy into the universe. Only the darkest of wizards contemplate on using it and only wizards with the most evil in their heart have actually said the words aloud. It kills instantly, but like in all wizardries there is a price." Tom looked up at Nita who was shaking considerably with the heft of these words. A price? But Nita hadn't even _known_, she had just said it! She was just curious! A price? "Your soul is shattered, and not even the Powers That Be can repair it."

Nita's hand flew to her mouth. Tom smiled a bit.

"You don't automatically kill someone by mentioning the words." Tom looked away thoughtfully, "you have to mean it. And no rightful wizard would ever MEAN it."

Nita's thoughts went back to her dream. She thought of those pictures, the moving ones that held those smiling faces. They were, Nita thought, the same people who had been murdered several halls over. By the Killing Curse, the one that had started Entropy.

Nita shuddered.

Tom nodded, justifying Nita's response as an appropriate one.

"What does it mean, then?" Nita wondered aloud. "My dream, I mean. This guy just killed that woman with this curse so he must have been a wizard. Or 'Harry' must have been extremely important to have the Lone One on his tail personally, or..."

Nita's thought process stopped when she saw that Tom wasn't paying attention but instead was reading his manual. She was a bit irritated, it was her dream after all shouldn't her theories be important? But she waited patiently for Tom to brief her on what was happening. The beads of sweat now leaking from his forehead was indication that Tom was onto something. He was now flipping rapidly through the pages, his eyes darting from left to right as though he couldn't get information fast enough. Tom swore and that was when Nita became worried. Before it had been dream--a scary bone-chilling _nightmare_. But with every turn of a page in Tom's manual Nita could sense it becoming more real. As the sense of evil had come closer with every hallway in her dream, danger was coming closer with every page Tom flipped.

So abruptly did Tom look up from his frantic searching that it made Nita jump. "Uh..." she said nervously.

"Nita," Tom said in all seriousness, "we're going to Great Britain."

"Great Britain?" Nita cried. What had bought upon this change of events? "Where does Great Britain factor into this?"

"Did your dream people have an accent?" Tom asked countering Nita's question with one of his own.

Although she didn't sense what this, or Great Britain, had anything to do with the Killing Curse she knew to be patient with her Senior and try not to sound ignorant. "Yes," she answered with as much impatience as she would allow, "Actually they DID have kind of a British sound..."

This seemed to strengthen Tom's conclusions about the situation. But rather than looking more relieved his face became grimmer. "I think the information might have passed to your manual by now. And if you look at your status you're on assignment."

Nita resisted the urge to groan. Assignment? After saving the universe? This had started as a simple dream... but that was all unraveling now. It wasn't simple anymore, not with the most serious of looks Tom had on his face.

Nita looked at her status and was disappointed to see that Tom was right. She was on assignment. Her manual had gotten alot fatter also. Or rather one part of it had been highlighted while everything else shrunk behind it. The section that had now become the majority of her manual was all about the history of magic in Great Britain. When Nita saw the numbers her eyes jumped.

"Whoa," she said. This was what Tom was so frantic about, she thought. All impatience she had was thrown out the window. The urgency of this situation doubled over everything.

102 reports of the Killing Curse in Earth this past year. All 102 of them had been in Great Britain. Nita stared at the page. no way could that be true. No way could that be _possible_. Who was this murderous wizard who felt that it was okay to off people? Especially 102 people? Or could this be a team of Wizards-Gone-Bad? How could _any_wizard think of taking away someone's life when Life was what being a wizard was all about?

Tom had been waiting for Nita's reaction. She lifted her eyes from the manual, and they met Tom's.

"Let's go to Great Britain."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It wasn't a secret that Nita was afraid to go. It wasn't a secret because she was shaky and fidgety and she kept pacing in the airport terminal. Kit tried to get her to calm down, but she was even more unnerved by the fact that Kit was calmly sitting reading his book.

How could he _not_ be nervous? They were about to face a wizard so _evil_ that he would use the very words that created entropy without any thought about what he was doing. And Kit was... Kit was sitting down, legs crossed, reading a _book_and nibbling on a Snickerdoodle! Again Nita was astounded at his ability to smile -or chew- in the face of danger. She collapsed on the seat next to him still shaking from the enmity they were about to face.

Kit noticed this and broke of a piece of his cookie. He offered it to Nita. "Snickerdoodle?"

Nita took it. Maybe Kit had done a wizardry on it to calm his nerves. But no, Nita ate her piece of the cookie and felt no different.

Kit noticed this also and went in to comfort her. "Neets, didn't we just save the universe from destruction a couple of weeks ago?"

Nita nodded.

"Haven't we looked the _creator_ of Entropy in the face and defeated him? And you're scared of one of his puppets? Don't be, we'll probably be done and through with this guy before the weekend, and won't have to miss school."

Both he and Nita knew that it wasn't true. This was a big threat to, not only Great Britain, but the world. Judging by the frantic looks Tom and Carl kept throwing each other this was severe. It had taken and immense amount of convincing to let Nita and Kit come. Tom and Carl had been insistent on the fact that this was a job for more adult, experienced wizards. Nita argued that it was her dream and she and her partner should get to come. That was before it had dawned on her what she would be dealing with. People didn't use the Killing Curse lightly. In all the universe the numbers of those who had used it had been in the double digits. That was before this murderer in Great Britain had come along. Then, using the new information in her manual, Nita had read up about the curse itself. It killed instantly, the person was dead before they hit the ground. The fact that the spell was only two words, instead of the usual complexity of the Speech, made it even scarier. If you got mad at someone, even if in the long run you didn't want them gone, your emotions in that moment would feed into the spell and give it the power to swipe the life from someone. _That's_ why the words were unknown to the general population of wizards. It was that dangerous.

Even though Kit had lessened the true intensity of their assignment, it did make her feel a little better. Nita took a deep breath.

"Have any theories about my dream?" Nita asked.

Kit continued to look at his book, but she knew he was really thinking deeply. "You said you wanted to find that baby, right? 'Harry'?"

Nita nodded. She didn't know why, but she felt he was important. It was a gamble of course, Harry could have been dead. But something was tugging her in the direction of that baby boy. She looked to Kit to see if she was crazy, but he was looking at her like this made perfect sense.

"We can use that spell that you used to find Darryl, the locator one. If he's out there and we use that spell then we'd be within a fifty foot range, right?"

"Right. You need to write everything about that boy that you can remember, all the specifics or the spell won't work."

Kit searched through his carry-on bag until he found a pad or paper and a pencil. Then he handed it to Nita.

Nita took the pad and pencil and set them on her lap. Luckily Nita had developed a wizardry. After figuring out that the weird dreams weren't going to go away, but that they _were_important, Nita had worked on a new way to record her dreams. Using a kind of wizardry TiVo, which she hooked up to herself while she was asleep, she could record her dreams vividly and pick up more details. The dream recorder was sentences of the Speech in the shape of headphones. Nita put these on now, closed her eyes, and relived her dream.

When she got to the part where she was looking at the photographs, she pressed pause. Nita opened her eyes and began writing what she could see. She wondered if these details would be enough to find the baby. Pitch black hair, intelligent -even for an infant- green eyes, pale skin. But Nita bet that there were a million kids who fit this description. The kid had weird ears, or at least in Nita's opinion. But putting 'weird ears' in a spell would bring nasty results. Nita wished she could write something more. When she handed Kit the pad she could see that he was disappointed also.

"It won't be enough," Kit said, repeating what Nita had already figured out. "Maybe if you could go to sleep again?" Kit looked at Nita's dream TiVo meaningfully.

Nita sighed and started to close her eyes and pick up her headphone wizardry, when Tom and Carl came back with the food.

They'd been gone long enough that Nita wondered if all they'd done was get some Burger King. Probably they had talked about details of their plan they felt Nita and Kit couldn't handle. At first their secrecy had made Nita annoyed, but then she realized that all their assignments before Tom and Carl had treated them like adults. They'd never treated them like kids, and that wasn't what they were doing now. "Avada Kedavra" had been classified to Seniors only, what other parts of this assignment weren't on their level? Nita shivered at the dangerous levels it would have to be to keep Tom and Carl from telling her and Kit.

"One hamburger and one cheeseburger, two fries and two Pepsi's." Tom dolled out the food.

Kit sank his teeth into a cheeseburger. Even though Nita had never been one for fast food she too bit into her hamburger and tried not to picture the mountains of grease and fat she'd just entered into her system. At least the fries were decent. Nita focused on those and turned her ears to the conversation Tom and Carl were having. Although it was pretty trivial compared to what they were getting ready to face, their arguing about Coke vs. Pepsi was comforting. It was... normal.

Tom was just arguing his point for Pepsi when the Airport PA called for all riders on the Transatlantic flight to London to be in the airport terminal.

Quickly the four wizards gathered their carry on luggage and were ready when the PA system called for their rows.

"Ready?" Carl asked.

Tom, Kit, and Nita nodded and they started for the plane that would carry them to the most dangerous war of their lives.

* * *

The look of frustration on Harry and Ron's face almost made Hermione take pity on them. Almost. She had to learn discipline this year, she couldn't just let them copy off of her all the time. This year was their OWLs, and if they couldn't do a simple essay on how to calm down a disgruntled Skiddly Wank, then they'd fail and it would be all her fault for letting them slide by on her work. Hermione couldn't have that on her conscience.

But the pathetic looks on Ron and Harry's face were too much to bear. She was their friend, right? She couldn't let them look that pitiful, it would hurt their manly pride. Sighing, Hermione took the papers from each of them. A look of disgust crossed her face when she realized that Harry had written one word 'the' and that Ron hadn't written anything.

"Er... writer's block?" Ron tried.

Hermione rolled her eyes and then sent daggers towards each of them. "What is the matter with you? Is that going to be the excuse to your mother when she sees that you've gotten Troll on all your OWLs. 'er... writer's block'?" Hermione copied the voice of an idiot while mocking Ron. Knowing that he was in the wrong here, Ron didn't shoot her back with an insult.

Instead he slumped in his chair and heaved a big sigh, like one might do after hours of hard work. "I _know_Hermione, but I honestly don't get where I'd ever have to know how to calm a disgruntled Skiddly Wank in my life. Aren't they 'rare' or whatever, and only found in Antarctica?"

Hermione didn't answer. She didn't have to. The glower coming from her eyes was enough to make Ron and Harry back off in fear. "I will _help_ you with your papers." Hermione said. Happy sounds radiated from the couch Ron and Harry were sitting on. "I said _help_!" Hermione warned not wanting to get their hopes up. Immediately Ron and Harry calmed themselves, trying to make it look like they had learned their lesson. But Hermione knew, and they knew Hermione knew, that they hadn't really repented, but Hermione would forgive them anyway. That was how this worked, and always would.

"It's only that we're excited about the Quidditch match tomorrow." Harry said, taking back his paper. "We're distracted Hermione, you can't expect us to work at our best."

Hermione had to admit that this was a valid excuse. The entire _school_had been distracted by the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor on Saturday. The two teams had been battling it out before hand, playing pranks on each other and jinxing each other in the halls. Now they finally got to let out their steam by battling it out on the Quidditch pitch the next day. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were excited, each rooting for their favorite team. Of course the majority of them rooted for Gryffindor, but ones who declared themselves _smart_were rooting for Slytherin.

"Have you seen the size of those Beaters? No way will Harry and the Gryffindors be able to compete with _that_ kind of brawn."

"Can't we just put off our papers until after the match tomorrow?" Ron asked.

Hermione sighed and waved for them to put their papers away. They cheered and Hermione laughed at their boyish attitude. But she had to admit, she was looking forward to the match also. She had a feeling it would be one to remember.

* * *

"_Nice_," Kit whistled.

Nita had to admit that their hotel was pretty snazzy. Their rooms even were decorated to impress. The comforters on the bed were soft and Nita had to wonder how Tom and Carl could afford this on what they did. She only wondered for a second, and then she stopped and sank deeper into the comfort or and was just grateful that she could sleep after that long uncomfortable flight.

It hadn't been enough that she and Kit were separated by three rows. She had to be seated by someone who wouldn't stop jabbering away on her cellphone? Nita heard all the details on Phillip and Stephanie and how Phillip was such a pervert but Stephanie loved him anyway. And did you see the huge, practically fifty-foot teddy bear that Phillip got Stephanie for V-Day? Ehmagawsh they were cute together weren't they?

And then Nita had the _nerve_ to inform the girl that the pilot said all cellphones off. The girl told her friend on the phone all about the rude passenger next to her and Nita didn't get the sleep she so desperately wanted.

But now... Nita pulled the covers over her and sighed happily. She could finally fall asleep.

She barely had time to put on her wizard's head phones before she drifted contently off to dream land.

_"Dudley, give that back!"_

_The small, scrawny boy jumped trying to reach the ball in his cousin's hand. But his cousin was too hefty and too tall and merely shoved Harry out of the way._

_Is that Harry? Nita thought. All of a sudden she was present in the scene. For some reason she was on the swings, her legs pumping and her hands gripping the chains. She looked like an innocent bystander, the only witness to a bully's cruel treatment. _

_"Dudley _stop!_" Harry ordered._

_His cousin Dudley only proceeded to taunt him. At first holding Harry's ball within Harry's reach, and just as Harry's pale hand was about to grab it, snatching it back away and blowing a raspberry._

_"It's not my fault you're so weak. It's not my fault you can't do anything." Dudley's obvious intention was to make Harry cry, but Harry wasn't crying. Instead his fists balled up and his mouth was set in a mean grimace._

_He thrust his hand out and cried forcefully, "I said, give my ball back!"_

_Dudley still wouldn't and had no knowledge of the danger he was about to face._

_Nita felt it. She whipped her head around to see where it was coming from, and then mentally smacked her forehead. Of course! Harry! Harry's forehead was glowing with a bright white light. And the _power_ of that light made Nita shiver. No wizard should be granted that much power, especially someone that young. Was that it then? Was Harry a wizard?_

_Dudley stared at Harry in horror. "Mum!" his voice was weaker than when he'd been teasing Harry. He was afraid, and he had a right to be. "Mummy, he's doing it again!"_

_Nita feared for the worst, she feared what this insane amount of power would do. But all that happened was that wood chips rose from the ground below and flew ferociously at Dudley._

_Harry stopped looking angry, and started looking surprised and confused. Then he stopped feeling all emotions but amusement as he watched his cousin run about being pelted by wood chips._

_"MUMMY!!" he wailed, "DADDY!!" The shrill of his voice made Harry laugh harder, so hard in fact that he rolled on the ground, and held his stomach._

_Nita smiled. It _was_pretty funny seeing the large boy run about, and seeing the wood chips run after him. His face was getting very purple, and he was panting heavily. Finally his hefty body couldn't take running away and he collapsed on the ground._

_Harry turned to hysterics as the wood chips mauled Dudley. But then he stopped cold was a large meaty hand clamped down on his seven yr. old shoulder._

_"BOY!!" his Uncle Vernon roared, "MAKE THEM STOP!! MAKE THEM STOP!!" Uncle Vernon had now turned as purple as his son, but not from exhaustion, from rage._

_Almost immediately the wood chips fell and became ordinary inanimate wood. His forehead stopped glowing so brightly and Nita could see clearly a lightning shaped scar._

That's_ specific, she thought. _

And just as she thought that, she woke up.

"Okay," Kit said chewing on a bagel thoughtfully, "jet black hair, green eyes, scrawny in stature, very pale, glasses, a lightning-shaped scar and a power level way higher than anything we've ever seen." Kit looked up from the notepad. "Anything I've left out?"

Nita shook her head. That should be everything she'd learned from last night's dream and the first one. Nita just hoped this worked. Now she had some idea on what the Lone Power wanted with Harry. He probably wanted that power. His power levels were way high, higher than a kid on Ordeal, even higher than Dairine's on Ordeal.

"Ready Nita?" Kit asked, preparing the spell.

Nita nodded and began reading. Kit joined in and soon they were spelling in unison. When they ended they had the coordinates for where Harry was. Nita felt a little excitement. They would find Harry and then...

Okay, she felt a little foolish. What would she say to him when she found him? "Hello, I saw you in my dream the other night," wouldn't suffice. And how to tell him that a murderous wizard was after him? Unless he already knew, or unless he was dead.

When she saw Harry she'd think of a plan. Hopefully it wouldn't include telling him about her dream as that sounded like a bad pick-up line.

Kit carefully placed Harry's coordinates in a spell he had set up earlier. The spell was a locator spell that would find Harry wherever he was, and place them within 50 ft. of him. Finally the spell was ready and Kit said the final word that set it in action.

* * *

Hermione woke up, not to the sun as she'd hoped, but to the singing downstairs in the common room. All of the girls in her dormitory were squealing in anticipation of the match. The match that was, Hermione looked at her watch, 3 hours away.

Hermione groaned but because she was already awake she threw off her covers and hurried to get dressed.

Harry and Ron would be surrounded by fans, boys and girls who had woken up early to pump up the team. That was the singing Hermione had woken up to, and it only grew louder once Hermione slipped into the common room. Sure enough the entire Gryffindor team was surrounded by supporters. Knowing she wouldn't get a chance to talk to them until after the match, and not even then if they won, Hermione went off to her favorite place in Hogwarts. The library.

Wizard literature was so fascinating. Hermione could see why Ron wouldn't care having grown up with the opportunity all his life, but she didn't get why Harry wasn't more interested. People had always said that Hermione had probably read every book known to man, but then Hermione had encountered the Hogwarts' library, and she was thrown off.

Rows and rows, piles and piles, stacks and stacks of books she had never read in a world she had never known. Her favorites were the history books. In elementary school she had learned the fundamentals of the history of Great Britain, but now she got to learn a whole new history. She inhaled every word, staying up late at night to pour through the history books. Professor McGonagall once saw Hermione reading happily in the library and commented that by her 7th year she'd have read every book in the library. Hermione doubted it, but oh how she wanted to.

3 hours would give her enough time to search for a new book. She'd just finished reading a book under the fiction section. It was set in the Muggle world, much like many Muggle books set their characters in the wizarding world. It wasn't meant to be a comedy, but Hermione laughed anyway. Wizards knew as few about Muggles, as Muggles knew about them. And though to some people being Muggle-born seemed a curse, Hermione was happy that she belonged and fit into both worlds.

When Hermione walked into the library she inhaled the scent of fresh and old paper. She loved that scent. That scent felt like home.

Which section to pick? The Hogwarts library was arranged so that once you walked through the doors the sections were set out in a semi circle around you. You could choose any direction you wanted and it would take you to a different genre. This time Hermione decided on her favorite, History of Magic. Though the class was dead boring, the books were a different story entirely.

Hermione made her way to the shelves that held the history books. She'd gone through most of this section in her 2nd year, and now she was looking for a new book. A book that--

Hermione's hand was jerked forward. Involuntarily her fingers wrapped around the spine. What was happening? Why had her hand moved that way? What was the magic of this book?

Hermione pulled the book from the shelves, glad that she was in charge of her hand again.

The book was called, 'A Tale of Two Powers'.

She hadn't seen this book before. It looked just like an ordinary library book, but the power emanating from it was so much more than that.

Against her better judgment, Hermione opened the book. And as she had done with the rest of the books in the History section she devoured it. It was unlike anything she had ever read before. A language called the Speech in which every living thing, and even some non-living things, understood. Complex spells that would calm a Sun or ignite it.

Hermione couldn't understand. The book described it as wizardry but it was unlike any magic she had ever heard of. Was this some kind of Muggle fairytale? How Muggle's perceived magic? That was the most logical explanation, the Muggles had many ideas of what magic was and while many had come close, some were so far off. For instance, there was no "Speech" and you couldn't do half of these things with a wand that this book said. But even so, Hermione didn't want this to be a fairy-tale. She wanted it to be real. Besides, it didn't feel like a Muggle's book. It was more like an instruction guide, a How To. It explained each spell, and how it worked. How you were asking the universe to bend for you. And Hermione had to admit, this version of things made more sense than flicking a wand in the air and having magic come out. This seemed more... _rewarding_. And although there was a loss of energy, that seemed almost _right_.

Well... Hermione thought hesitantly, there _is_ a way to test it. I could figure out if this is real, or fiction. All I have to do is cast a spell in this book's way, without a wand. If it works...

Hermione's heart leaped at the thought. If it worked... But she didn't want to get ahead of herself. She didn't want her hopes to go soaring high only to come crashing down when it was proved wrong.

Her elation was shown in the shaking of her body. Hermione couldn't help herself. Because _if this was real_... Hermione's hand hovered over the page of the book...

And a voice bellowed through the halls. "All spectators to the Quidditch Pitch, all Spectators to the Quidditch Pitch."

Hermione retracted her hand. She would find if the book was a fake or the real thing _after _the Quidditch match. A little disappointed, Hermione hurried off to the field.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_"Go Gryffindor!"_

Nita waited to get her balance. She looked down on her feet and willed them to stay still. When she was okay, she looked around to get her bearings.

It was a stadium of some sort. People all around were cheering and waving up banners. But the teams on the banners weren't like any sports team she knew of. Then again, Nita wasn't exactly cutting edge in the sports world, what did she know? Nita looked over at Kit to see how he was taking things, but because he'd done this spell before he was better off than her.

"I guess he's watching a sports game," Kit looked down at the field of green grass and concluded, "A soccer game, most likely. But who are the teams?"

Slytherin and Gryffindor, Nita read squinting her eyes to make out the tiny print on the banner. It looked tiny to her. The field was so huge that letters probably bigger than her head looked like a font size of 5. Looking around her she noticed that the field _was_ big... and she and Kit were right in the middle of it.

"Shouldn't we have been mauled by a large sports team by now?" Nita asked. Before activating the locator spell Kit had cloaked them with invisibility. Suddenly Nita was extra glad that he had. All of these eyes on the field were a bit unnerving.

Only the eyes of the spectators _weren't_on the field. They were in the air. But what kind of sport was played in the air? Nita's eyes flew upward, just as a Bludger smacked into her.

She didn't know that it was a Bludger of course. All she saw was a very heavy ball coming straight toward her, and all she felt was this sharp pain in her arm.

"Y'okay there, Neets?" Kit asked, coming over to her.

Nita nodded. Yes she was okay, but was she going mad? The ball looked as though it had a mind of it's own flying up and down the field. Nita was even more confused when a boy in green robes went flying after it.

On a _broom_.

What the _heck_?

"Uh... you're sure we're on Earth?" Kit asked uneasily. Nita didn't know what to say or how to answer. She and Kit both followed the green cloaked boy as he went after the dangerous ball. The boy had in his hand a bat which he proceeded to whack the ball... right into another kid on a flying broomstick, only this one was wearing scarlet robes.

"_Foul_!" someone yelled. A shrill whistle blew and a silver haired woman strolled onto the field wearing what referees would wear in robe form.

14 robe wearing, broomstick flying, kids landed around them.

This was their first clue to get out of there, the fact that they were now in the middle of a circle of these oddly dressed people, who had a few seconds earlier been flying on _brooms_.

Nita rubbed her temple with one hand and grabbed Kit's arm with another. "I dunno whether to be confused or afraid."

"I think I'll go with both. Come on, we need to get out of this circle." Before all 15 of these people could meet in the middle, Nita and Kit slipped out. However, too intrigued by this sudden weirdness, they didn't leave, but watched the scene unfold.

The girl who had been hit by the same ball that had whacked Nita was glaring at the green-cloaked people. Despite the fact that they had injured someone (or maybe because of that fact) all of the green-wearers were smiling smugly. Two tall red headed boys in deep red robes were standing by the injured girl and muttering insults under their breath.

"Is Ms Bell alright?" the referee stepped in to inspect the damage.

A dark haired boy with a lightning shaped scar stepped in and explained that he suspected Katie's arm to be broken. This boy was covered by scarlet robes, but Nita suspected that under them he was extremely skinny and pale. She knew that if she walked close enough to inspect his eyes that they would be a brilliant green. The glasses concluded it. This was the boy from both dreams.

"That's Harry!" Nita stupidly cried.

Head whipped around to stare at the patch of air where Nita and Kit stood. Kit grabbed Nita and clamped a hand fiercely over her mouth. She sent him an apologizing look, but she couldn't contain her excitement. Harry was alive. Harry was here. She had to... She had to warn him. Warn him that the darkest being in this universe and the next was after him.

The robed people stopped looking at Nita and Kit but Kit didn't let go of Nita's mouth. He only removed his hand when Nita pried it off of him.

"Sorry--" she whispered but Kit shushed her.

Kit looked at the robed people and then led Nita away from them. He gave Nita a forgiving nod and then nothing more was said on her slip-up. Now they had to talk about how to get to Harry. The weirdness of this situation they'd discuss later, preferably with Harry. But first they had to figure out a way to meet him without thousands of people watching. They were out of there element, and while they had been to distant planets never had they seen anything so odd and so different of their own Earth. It was like a whole other planet.

So they couldn't very well talk to him now with everyone watching, they had to get him somewhere else. Kit suggested a note, and because Nita couldn't think of anything else, they wrote him one.

Using the pad from Kit's backpack they devised a note that, hopefully, Harry would listen to.

Now they had to give it to Harry without him freaking out about invisible people, and throwing the note away out of distrust.

The meeting on the Field was about to break up. They had about one minute before these strange characters would mount their brooms and fly away. Nita still felt odd thinking about magic brooms and such. She had dismissed those ideas as soon as she learned what magic -or wizardry- _really_ was. But now she pushed this disbelief out of her mind, because she had seen those brooms fly.

Nita felt like she would be the one to give Harry the note because she knew him the best. She snuck up to him, trying not to make any noise but the grass was soft enough and well-kept that there was nothing to make noise. She found herself behind him.

Carefully she took a breath, but found this to be a bad move as Harry felt the breath on his neck and looked behind him.

His eyes narrowed on hers. It was odd how he was looking her in the eyes, but she was invisible. After a two-second quizzical look he turned back around. This was the time, Nita thought as Harry got ready to take to the sky.

"Don't turn around."

She could see Harry stiffen, but thankfully he didn't turn around conspicuously.

"Who are you?" Harry murmured.

"A friend. I'm not about to hurt you, just bring your hand back, I have something to give you."

She could see Harry making the difficult decision in his head. He didn't know if he could trust her. Not only had she snuck on the field, but she was covered by an invisibility spell. She hardly expected him to put his hand back, but he did.

She slipped the note into his hand and then backed away.

She had to admit, Harry was good. A few seconds after she slipped him the note he took off after he hadn't just met a total stranger.

Nita ran over to where Kit was, holding her hands out. Kit's eyebrows raised, "He took it?"

"I was surprised too. But taking the note, and believing it two different things."

Kit smiled a little, "We'll see at eight."

Yes, Harry caught the snitch. Yes, Gryffindor won by an amazing point spread. And Harry had to admit seeing the disheveled looks of the Slytherins did give him a sort of satisfaction. But all he could think about, during the last half of the game and afterward was that note that the girl had slipped to him.

She'd had an invisibility cloak, he was sure of it. He wasn't crazy and he hadn't imagined it. Every so often he'd slip his hand into the pocket of his jeans just to make sure that the invisible girl was real. No one else had seen her, but they'd all heard her. He was becoming more sure now that the "That's Harry!" that he heard when the Quidditch teams had been grounded had come from her. So she'd been looking for him. And now she'd found him. What was she going to do?

Harry didn't even get a chance to look at the note. As always after a Quidditch match the team was swarmed. Wood's smile blinded people from across the common room. Katie was being fawned over by fan-boys and her friends. And Harry, the Seeker who had won it for them, had been slapped on the back many times.

Finally, all the craziness was over and he got a moment to talk to Ron and Hermione. "Up in our dormitory," he said to the both of them. Neville was out studying in the library, Dean and Seamus were still down at the loose ends of the party. They would have the dormitory to themselves for about half an hour.

When Harry sat down on his bed and told them he had something to tell them, Hermione confessed she had something to. "But you first," Hermione was clutching a book to her chest, and Harry wondered if what she had to say had something to do with new information she'd found. He was about to suggest that she go first, but then the note in his pocket rubbed against his skin, and the weirdness of the situation hit him again.

"On the Quidditch pitch today, someone walked up to me and gave me this." Harry pulled the note from out of his pocket, unfolded it and held it up for Hermione and Ron to see.

" 'We're your friends and we're here to help you. Tonight at 10:00 go somewhere safe. As long as no one can hear us, it doesn't matter where. We'll find you,' " Hermione read aloud.

"Er... doesn't that sound kind of creepy?" Ron asked, fidgeting nervously.

"I wouldn't go," Hermione said shaking her head. "Most likely she's in a league with You-Know-Who, or even if she's not a Death Eater, she's probably a supporter. It isn't safe, Harry."

Harry felt conflicted. The girl hadn't _seemed_ like a Death Eater, nor did she seem like a supporter of You-Know-Who. She seemed kind of nice.

"I'm going to go," he said surprising both of his best friends. Ron nodded and said he'd come with. He recognized the tone of Harry's voice as a cue that Harry wasn't going to change his mind. Hermione, however, did not.

"Why? That doesn't make any sense! Just because this girl says, at the beginning of the note, that she's your friend and she's here to help does not mean that she's actually your friend. In fact Harry this entire thing reeks essence of 'fake'! I wouldn't go if I were you."

Harry lifted his eyebrow. "Well I _am_ going to go. I can't explain it Hermione, but she doesn't seem like a Death Eater. It was her voice..."

Hermione crossed her arms, hugging the book tightly to her chest. "So you've got a crush on her, is that it? Heard her voice, fell madly in love?"

Harry would have laughed if he weren't so ticked. "Wrong. I just feel like it's an opportunity that I want to take." He could tell that nothing he could say would convince Hermione. And how could he explain it? He couldn't. The only thing he could offer was that Hermione come along. "If we all three have our wands, we could probably take her. That is _if_ she attacks us, which I doubt she would."

Hermione thought on it, and agreed. "We'd better hurry up then," she said looking at her watch, "because it's ten o'clock now."

Hermione didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. If she'd had her way Harry wouldn't be falling into the hands of what would surely be a trap. The safest place they could think of would have to be outside the castle. They couldn't risk any of the Hogwarts' staff finding out. Hogsmeade was the only route Harry could think of, and although it pained Hermione they snuck out of one of the secret passageways. They were only five-minutes out when they collided with an invisible force.

They'd been invisible themselves, huddling together under Harry's invisibility cloak. Now, Harry Ron and Hermione picked themselves up from the ground, threw off their invisibility cloaks and pointed their wands in the what they hoped was the direction of who they'd bumped into.

"Who's there?" Harry said. He tried to make his voice sound commanding and intimidating.

He heard a voice that said something that sounded kind of like "Release" but foreign at the same time. Since this confused him he shook the thought out of his head, but confusion followed him into what he saw next. One minute he was pointing his wand at air the next he was threatening two teenagers. Startled, he almost dropped his wand. There was a clatter on the floor, and looking over at Ron, Harry saw that Ron _did_ drop his wand.

"Um, hello." the girl looked up at Harry, and he recognized her voice. This was the girl that had handed him the note.

"You found us," was the only thing he could say.

The girl and her friend picked themselves up. The girl nodded and shrugged. "A locator spell."

Harry tried to make his face look like he understood what that was. "Er... yeah. Shouldn't we go someplace safer? Someplace where we won't get caught?"

Both the girl and the boy nodded. Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione to see their reactions. Ron had picked up his wand and had put it in his pocket. Hermione was staring intently at the teenagers' arms, in which they held brown library books.

Harry smirked to himself figuring how like Hermione it was to notice someone's book before anything else. But it didn't make much sense, why they would bring a library book to a meeting like this? Or maybe it's part of the 'help' she promised.

Hermione tried to get herself to calm down. It's just a look-alike, she tried to convince herself, it's not as though they have the very same book. Of course not, that would be absurd. But Hermione hoped. The way they were carrying the book, as though they knew all of the secrets inside the book, as if they understood it. And if it was the same book, and if they did understand it, perhaps they could teach her...

But, wait a minute. They were evil, right? Or the very least, not to be trusted. The fact that they could appear wherever Harry was whenever was unnerving. And something kept bugging Hermione. How could that girl have gotten on Hogwarts grounds? It was impossible to Apparate yourself, and unless you were a house-elf the ways of getting into Hogwarts were very limited. So how did they do it?

Hermione wanted to ask all of these questions and more, but the walk into Hogsmeade was silent. Nobody said anything, but occasionally the girl and the boy would look at each other and then back at Harry. Finally they reached the end of the street and entered the Hogsmeade village.

The girl and boy's eyes bugged out. It much reminded Hermione of the way she had felt when she first was introduced to the Magical World. In kind of a touristy way the boy and the girl looked around at the witches and wizards going about their business.

Harry noticed this and ushered the boy and girl quickly into the Three Broomsticks. He shot Hermione a look that said "What's up with them?" Hermione was wondering that too. They grabbed themselves a booth and the owner swarmed on them asking for drinks. Harry Ron and Hermione ordered butter-beers. The two teenagers looked at them oddly and then ordered Cokes.

Heads whipped to face them. Ron didn't fully realize the oddness of this situation, but Harry and Hermione shared a knowing look.

Quickly, Hermione corrected their mistake ordering them both butter-beers. As the owner was sashaying away Harry leaned in to whisper to Hermione. "D'you think...?"

Hermione shook her head. "Impossible. If they were Muggles they wouldn't have been able to _see_ Hogwarts, let alone enter it. But still..."

"Those odd looks they were giving the wizards and the witches. It sort of reminds you--"

"Yes, I know, about the first time I saw the wizarding world. But you don't really think--"

Ron cleared his throat and Hermione snapped her head away from Harry.

"I was just thinking that we ought to get introductions over with." Ron suggested. He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the newcomers.

The girl cleared her throat. "I'm Nita," she pointed to the Hispanic looking kid, "and he's Kit. As we explained before in our note, we're here to help you. Or first to warn you that you're in trouble--"

Harry held up his hand. "Wait, first we need some things cleared up."

Nita shot Kit a look and then she nodded. "Yea, us too. Don't get offended or anything... but we're wondering if you're in some kind of cult."

There was silence. This question alone was enough to stir up thoughts in Hermione's mind. Could they be Muggles? Their ignorance to butter-beer, their look of amazement at the world around them. But that didn't make any sense at _all_. Could they have gotten into Hogwarts on pure luck? Stumbled upon the castle, just happened to see it? No, Hermione thought, it said so in Hogwarts A History, Muggles couldn't see the castle. So what was up with these two?

"Do you mean, 'are we Death Eaters'?" Ron asked, enraged.

Nita and Kit threw each other looks. "Um, what are death eaters?"

There was silence around the table as each side tried to digest the news. Hermione was busy trying to work out exactly what these people were. Her brain couldn't come up with a sufficient answer. On either side there were loopholes. Thankfully Ron helped ease her mind by asking, in a loud frustrated voice, "What _are_ you?"

Nita looked offended and was probably about to say something smart when Kit interrupted. "We're wizards. What are _you_?"

"I'm a wizard also," Ron said still frustrated. Like Hermione that answer wasn't enough. "But you don't make any sense."

"I'm sorry?" Nita said incredulously. "Well neither do you! I've never heard of wizards so... so... _stereotypical_. I mean, a pointy witch's hat? Magical flying brooms? Those must be mechanical, why would you use a spell on a broom to make it fly? Why not just levitate yourself? Do you even have manuals?"

"You mean this?" Hermione asked. Hermione put the book that she had been clutching protectively onto the table for everyone to see. This was her moment. This was her chance to see if this was fake or not. Nit had said 'manuals'. This book called itself a manual. Maybe, if these two outsiders were using these spells, then the spells in the book _did_ actually work.

Nita's and Kit's face went into relief, and then back into confusion. "Okay, so you do have a manual. But what's up with the robes?" Nita asked about the same time Ron inquired, "What the heck is _that_?"

Harry groaned and Hermione got the feeling that this would be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Nita set her confusion aside -or tried- and decided to take the logical route. Robes. Witch's hats. WANDS. That's what Nita figured those stick-like things were when Harry Ron and Hermione had pointed them at her. But they didn't look like the typical wand from a tree's branch, or even like Kit's make-shift one from their Ordeal. Perhaps it had been a bit much for Nita to ask them if they were in a cult, but Kit had been thinking it also and the peculiar-ness of the situation had overthrown her logic. Now she was trying to get it back.

The question 'What are you' had not been a good one. It was like asking an alien on their home planet 'what planet are we on'? The alien would answer 'Earth' and Nita would be no closer to an answer than we she started. Nor would the question 'How did you get this way?' suffice. Most likely the red-head would yell at her some more and her temper would flare. While she struggled to think of a way to get the answers she wanted, Kit indirectly answered Ron's question.

First he reach his hand for Hermione's book. after getting permission he brought it to where Nita could see and they both examined it. Kit flipped to the first page which would show the difference between a trick or truth. And sure enough there it was, in plain English. The Wizard's Oath.

Kit picked the book up and put it on the table so the other three could see. Then he asked, "Hermione, did you take this?"

Hermione looked scared, unsure of what the right answer was. "No, I didn't-- The Quidditch match was starting-- I wanted to-- I didn't know if it was _safe_,"

Nita didn't bother to ask what Quidditch was. So many things in this world made no sense that one detail didn't matter.

Ron snorted. "It's just a book Hermione."

"Wrong," Nita interjected. "It's not just a book, you were smart for thinking it through Hermione,"

Hermione beamed at the praise, even if it was from a total stranger. "I knew that it wasn't just a book. For some reason, I felt a great deal of magic coming from it. And..." Hermione paused as if wondering whether to continue, "I was _drawn_ to it. Or rather, it snatched me up. I felt like it had _picked_ me."

Ron looked like he wanted to say something, but Nita was grateful that he kept his mouth closed. Harry looked as though he were in deep thought, though Nita was figuring out that it was just Harry's natural look. He looked as if he was trying to decide what was true and what was fiction. But he wasn't going to give an opinion yet, unlike Ron who made it clear by his face that he thought it was all a load of crap.

"Right," Kit smiled a bit, "That's how a manual chooses a wizard. Now the only question is, are you going to use it?"

Ron now decided to open his mouth. "How do we know if we can trust you? How do we know if this whole 'oath' rubbish is just a ploy to get Harry to open up so you can snatch us all away and take us to You-Know-Who."

Hermione, who had been looking willing before Ron spoke, now looked doubtful. "Yes, I was wondering that. Not the 'You-Know-Who' part obviously. I was wondering if it all wasn't a fairytale crafted by some clever Muggle."

Nita shook her head. "No, it's real!"

"Would you like a demonstration?" Kit asked.

Hermione nodded warily. Ron looked as though Nita and Kit would bag the three of them any minute now and take them off to their secret hideaway. But Nita ignored Ron and turned to Kit.

"But what to do?" she whispered. "We can't do something that their normal wizardry could easily do. I'll bet Ron, that idiot, would probably yawn and ask if that was all." Nita gritted her teeth in thought of the red-headed prat.

Kit grinned slightly. "He rubbing you the wrong way?"

"Very much so, but enough about him. How about..." Nita whispered the spell to Kit and he nodded.

"Worked the last time, right?" Nita agreed. They turned out of their little huddle and turned to the three.

"We'll prove that this book isn't lying and that we aren't tricking you. We'll take you to the moon." Nita said proudly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Impossible." he said.

"For you maybe," Nita said and she wondered why that was. Why Ron, who was also a wizard, would say that going to the moon was impossible, when for Nita it was as easy as saying a few words. Though this itched at Nita she put this out of her mind for now.

"We just need to know a few things about you, Ron and Hermione. We already got Harry's information." Nita explained.

Minutes later thy were ready for the trip to the moon. Ron had been reluctant to give up his information but after a few pokes from Hermione he had cooperated. Nita grinned when she thought of the expression on these kids face when they saw the Earth from sitting on the moon. _That_ would fix Ron's bad attitude towards them, she thought.

When Nita and Kit were ready to say the spell Nita looked at Hermione. She looked like she wanted to grab a pen and paper and start taking notes. Nita grinned at the thought of a new wizard and she began reciting the Speech. Finally she came down to the last word and they were teleported away from the booth of the Three Broomsticks...

And onto the surface of the moon.

It was her favorite spot to view the Earth, especially at this time of the month. It created a scene that would render you speechless, and then you'd immediately turn to the next person and talk on and on about the sight you saw. But you wouldn't be able to find the right words. Even in the Speech the words were few. You'd stumble around with them a bit, and then say, forget it, let's just look.

And that's what happened.

All three robe-wearing kids looked at the Earth. Nita could tell that at first they didn't know what they were seeing. But then it registered and their mouths dropped open and their eyes bugged out.

As Nita knew she would, Hermione turned to her and Kit and tried to explain the phenomenon she was experiencing. "It-- I mean the _Earth_--"

It was Harry who shushed her, but Hermione didn't seem that offended. Instead she turned back around to look at the view.

Kit grinned and gave Nita a look. _It's been fun,_ he mind thought to her, _but we need to leave now_.

Nita agreed and she and Kit said the spell to go back to Earth. As she was reciting in the Speech she saw Hermione flip back. She and Nita met eyes. The look of amazement in Hermione's made Nita grin harder as she brought the group back to Earth.

They landed back in the Three Broomsticks, if only in slightly different spots. Once Ron had climbed down from the table (and Harry, Kit and Nita had stopped laughing at the butterbeer he'd spilled on the seat of his robes) they discussed what they saw. Actually they discussed what it _meant_ because they already decided that words couldn't suffice.

"You really are..." Harry waved his hand around to show that he really didn't know _what_ they were.

Nita nodded. She turned to Hermione who was smiling kind of shyly. She was looking at the book, no doubt imagining that she could go to the moon whenever. If she took the Oath.

Nita thought back to when she had taken the Oath. Most wizards were like hers, just curious. They saw a weird book in the library or in a bookstore or off the street. The fact that it had magic, or even a _chance_ excited them in a way they had never been during their once dull lives. So they took it on curiosity mostly. But Hermione was different. Nita could see that she already _had_ a magical world that she lived in. And though Nita knew that Hermione had all the makings to become a great wizard, her hesitation was still there.

"I've read the manual, or as much as I could in 3 hours," Hermione said uneasily, "And I want to be... what you are. It seems like this is way bigger than any magic I've ever seen. But I can't take a step this big. This 'oath' seems too binding, I need more time to think." Nita had sensed it way before Hermione said it. She felt a little disappointed, but she understood. The only thing Nita was worried about was how patient the manual was. As soon as she had found her manual she had opened up the pages and taken the oath. Nita thought the manual could wait a day, but how long would Hermione need?

Way too long, Nita thought, if she kept hanging out with Ron. For some reason, even with the moon experience behind him, Ron seemed to still distrust Nita and Kit. It wasn't as though Ron didn't _believe_ in them, how could someone not after experiencing what they had? It was more as if Ron didn't like them for intruding in on his life, and bringing something completely different to the table. Nita could feel his glare on her. She tried to shake it off, but Ron's distrust stayed with her.

Hermione hastened to change the subject from her almost-becoming-a-wizard. "So, what is this all about? You weren't originally here for me, you were here for Harry. Why?"

In all the confusion mixing the two brands of magic Nita _had_ forgotten about her original plan. To find the baby in the dream, and to warn him about the dangers he faced. Now, Nita turned to Harry.

"Someone's after you--" Nita started. Ron interrupted her with a bitter laugh.

"Oh, tell him something he _doesn't_ know. You-Know-Who has been after him since he was eleven."

Ron's voice seemed to have a bit of a challenge in it. He seemed to enjoy having something over Nita, something he knew that she did not.

"Who has?" Kit entered.

Harry looked at Kit and then Nita. "Right, I forgot you were... different. Have you seriously never heard of Voldemort?"

Ron flinched, "Don't say his name," he seemed to be clenching the ends of the table tightly as though he were in the middle of a tornado and didn't want to get blown away.

Nita and Kit shared another one of their looks. She felt glad that Kit was here with her and that she hadn't decided to do this alone. Experiencing all of these oddities would have been impossible if it weren't for Kit. They were both in the dark about Voldemort, and it was good to be lost with another person rather than stranded alone.

Harry apologized to Ron and then turned to Nita and Kit. "You-Know-Who was this terribly evil wizard. Murdered loads of people, especially Muggles-" At Nita and Kit's looks of confusion Harry added, "non magical people, and everyone was afraid of him."

"The Ministry of Magic was torn, and many families fled the country. Not that they were that much safer over seas," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Then he tried to kill me." Harry's voice grew quieter and he seemed more uncomfortable with what he was saying, "First he killed my parents. And then he tried to kill me, only he failed." Harry shook his head so that some of his hair brushed off his forehead. "I got this scar when he tried."

"After he failed to kill Harry he sort of vanished." Hermione said, "and the wizarding world became peaceful again. His Death Eaters were put in Azkaban."

Harry's voice grew stronger and his eyes flashed pure hatred. "But he's back. You say you came to warn me that someone was after me? Yeah well he already tried to kill me, last June. So thanks for your help, but there's not much you can do."

Nita tried to register this. She'd had the dream, right? She'd thought it was important that she come to Great Britain and warn this boy, but he already seemed to know. So what was her purpose there? Was there any purpose? Had it been a fluke?

The group sat in silence for a while.

Finally Hermione said that it was getting late and that they should return to school. Kit interjected that it was way too late for them also, and that they should get going to the hotel. It was an awkward good-bye because Nita _still_ didn't feel like she had fulfilled her purpose for being there. But Harry already knew of the danger. What more was there? For there had to be more.

"We should meet up again sometime," Hermione said looking directly at Nita and flashing her a smile, despite of the depressing topic they'd just been discussing. Nita smiled weakly back, her mind too preoccupied with trying to figure this out. She watched the three robed-wizards walk out of the Three Broomsticks and then she and Kit made their way back to their hotel.

Nita was caught before she touched the door. She threw Kit a guilty look before turning around to face the man she knew was waiting for her.

"It's not nine o'clock," Tom said tapping his foot.

_Uh, no it's not_, Nita thought. Not that she would say it out loud. Getting a Senior mad at you did not have terribly nice consequences, ask Dairine. While Nita struggled to think of something clever but at the same time apologetic, Tom went on.

"In fact, it happens to be eleven-thirty." All three wizards set their gazes on the clock at the end of the hall. The showing of 'eleven-thirty-five' on its face made Nita feel worse.

"I'm sorry Tom, it took longer than we expected," Kit tried to explain, but Tom interrupted him. Both Nita and Kit shut up. This was not a 'I'm disappointed in you' lecture this was an 'I was worried about you'. Both of them had dealt with these and both knew that the only way to live through them was to keep your mouth shut and nod when appropriate. Nita felt bad for making Tom feel so badly that his normally humorous tone was replaced with one heavy in seriousness.

"You could have been killed. When non-wizards have a mass-murderer running about they lock their children inside. I let you go out, I give you a reasonable time to come back, and you blatantly disobey me. Lord Voldemort will kill _anyone_, you understand how liberal he is with the Killing Curse. He won't hesitate to turn his spell on _you_. Especially because you're seen as Muggles."

Nita didn't know what to say. What could she say? Tom was right, staying out late with a murderous wizard on the loose was a very bad idea. Especially when they were with the one person Lord Voldemort would most likely to see dead. What were they thinking, except how cool it was to see the differences in English magic and American wizardry. So Nita couldn't say anything even though Tom's lecture was over. Nita found herself speechless, but Kit brought up something that she had missed.

"Muggles? _You_ know about Muggles?"

All of a sudden the tables had turned. Not entirely, Nita knew, but just so that Tom was the one answering questions and Kit was the one firing them. "Yes," Tom said this with a sigh as thought knowing about Muggles was a heavy burden to bear.

"Then you have to know why English magic is different from our wizardry. You have to know why they need to use wands, or why they wear robes, or why they have entire magical communities while we have to live separately. And why there is an entire SCHOOL devoted to the study of magic, but why the subjects are so askew from wizardry." Kit's questions rang out like shots and when each one struck Tom he seemed to wince. His expression made it seem like he was thinking 'wait a minute, wasn't _I_ mad at _you_?'

"This is the classified information you weren't allowed to tell us?" Nita asked.

Tom shook his head. "No, that was a knowledge of something different. _This_ knowledge is rare, but not incredibly dangerous."

"So tell us about it," Kit said. "If we're allowed to know, then I want to know."

Tom frowned. "You were two hours late for curfew now isn't the time to be so demanding."

Kit looked ashamed and apologized. But Nita could share his feeling. She wanted to know too. The hunger that Hermione had felt for Nita's wizardry was the same hunger she felt to know more about Hermione's magic. There was an entire country living in a completely different way than most wizards in the UNIVERSE. Why was that? What was _up_ with Great Britain?

Tom looked down the halls realizing that the conversation may have sounded weird to unknowing ears. Satisfied with the fact that no one had been listening, he motioned Nita and Kit to come into the room Tom and Carl shared together.

Nita wondered if they were going to get punished as they walked into the room. But no, that look wasn't on Tom's face. He seemed to have forgotten, or at least forgiven, the fact that they were 2 hours late coming to the hotel. Now he wore a new look, a look of thoughtfulness as though he were working out a puzzle that he couldn't solve. Nita wondered what he was thinking about, and if that was what he was about to share with them.

Carl was in their room also. He was hunched over the desk that the hotel had provided them with. Facts and figures ran over pages that were spread all about the desk, and even the floor. He looked to be in deep thought. Tom first walked over to Carl and whispered a few things to him. They had a whispering conversation for a few minutes while Nita and Kit stood there feeling like intruders.

Nita knew what they were talking about was more of that 'classified' stuff. even though she knew that it was probably for her own good that she did not know about it, Power's will and all, she was a bit ticked off that it was her dream that got them there, but Tom and Carl seemed to be keeping many secrets.

Their conversation seemed to be coming to a close. Their voices were growing louder and louder as if they were debating something. Nita caught snippets of their conversation.

_Too much power..._

_Only way..._

_... need a host..._

Finally they cut the conversation off. Carl went back to studying whatever was in front of him and Tom turned to Nita and Kit.

"To Nita's room." Tom said.

All three gathered into Nita's room, Tom on the desk chair and Nita and Kit on the bed. Tom let out a deep breath, like one does right before telling a drawn out tale.

"Its a long story, typically it doesn't get told. So few people ask the question 'why are there no wizards in England' that it never comes up. Wizards naturally assume that maybe Great Britain is just a very calm place, maybe there had never been any need for wizards."

"But that's not the case," Kit stated rather than asked.

"No, that's most definitely not the case. See all of these killings? This has happened before. About 40 years ago a wizard named Tom Riddle appeared in the manual. He's still registered there." Tom pulled out his manual, only he didn't need to do that. Kit and Nita quickly dug theirs up from other-space pockets and flipped to the back of the book. There was a index in the back that held all of the names of the wizards of Earth. Nita went straight to the R's, searching for the name 'Riddle'.

And there it was. On the opposite page from Kit's name. Nita wondered why she had never seen that name before, but then she had never looked for it either. Now the name itself seemed menacing. RIDDLE, Tom. Great Britain.

"He terrorized Great Britain, and dominated some other parts of Old Europe. Not only the magic scenes, but the 'Muggle' scenes as well. The wizards in other parts of the world, the ones with our kind of wizardry, didn't know what to make of it. We sensed that wizardry was at the heart of it, but because most did not know the ancient story, most cold not make heads or tails of it. They would see hooded figures with masks guarding their faces, and the wizards knew to attack. But they did not know where these hooded figures were coming from. the rest of the world was clueless while Great Britain was suffering it's darkest period. He was especially keen on torturing non-wizards. Mass homicides kept popping up everywhere until everyone feared there would be a genocide. The death of all non-wizards. Not only in Europe either, but Death Eaters began popping up in all parts of the world."

Nita nodded. Her three 'magical' friends had told her all about this. Perhaps not all, as Ron had looked pretty scared at the very mention of it. But Nita and Kit had gotten the basic gist. Tom M. Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, was evil. Pure evil.

"People feared that, but it did not happen. Mostly thanks to the Boy Who Lived."

"Harry Potter," Nita whispered.

Tom seemed surprised that Nita knew this. Then he looked at her manual as though deciding she had read it in there. But Nita hadn't. She had gotten this part of the story straight from the lips of the 'Boy Who Lived'.

"Yes," Tom nodded, "Harry Potter seemed to stop Voldemort for roughly ten years. Things returned to normal. His name disappeared from the manual. Most presumed him dead. None questioned how a little boy of twelve months could defeat the darkest wizard, they were just happy that he was gone. But there was so much more to that story, and this is where the story gets long."

Tom got up from his seat and walked to the mini-refrigerator in the corner. He pulled out a Pepsi and took a long sip. Then Tom sat back down in his chair, and cleared his throat.

"The story is not in your manual. It doesn't usually appear unless it is needed, and it hasn't been needed in a long time. It appeared in my manual this morning... and that means something. It means that somehow this story is going to factor into what we have to do in Great Britain. Which scares me."

Tom's voice shook a little when he said that, and this scared Nita. The fact that Tom, her Senior, would admit to being scared terrified the heck out of her. The look on Tom's face... Nita remembered the hushed conversation Tom and Carl had been having. _Too much power... Only way... need a host..._

They were having trouble. Nita wondered if Tom was actually going to tell them the story, and let them help -if they could- with any problems they were having. She waited until Tom spoke again.

He seemed to have recovered, and went on in a stronger voice. "I will transfer the story to your manuals. Read it and know it inside out. This story is major in what we're doing here. In fact, it's everything we're doing here."

Both Nita and Kit nodded, but waited until after Tom left the room to converse with each other.

"He's scared. The last time he was scared the universe was ending. What if that's happening _again_?" Nita said.

Kit's eyes scanned her face. Kit always knew what to say when she got like this. The fact that he said, "I don't know," stirred her fears in deeper. "We'll have to read to find out." Kit said.

Nita nodded. She half didn't want to read the story. She half wanted to turn a blind eye and remain ignorant. But part of being a wizard is taking leaps and bounds that normal people would never take. She had to take this one. Nita opened her manual and flipped until she saw a bold heading that read, "A Tale of Two Powers".

"_It starts at the beginning of the Universe..."_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: 'Sup readers. I'd appreciate it if you dismissed the thoughts that HP books 5-7 existed. Harry and the HP gang are currently in their fifth year and I'm kind of rearranging facts for my own use (like the reason Voldemort was after Harry and the reason Harry stopped Voldemort). Okay, thanks.**

"That was odd," Harry said.

He felt along the walls of the dark passageway. Even with the light by the wands he needed help steadying himself. Plus, with the shocker they all had just received, he needed something stable to hold onto. Hermione too. He looked back at his two friends both with dazed expressions on their faces. No one knew what to believe. Had those last hour been real? Or had someone slipped something into their pumpkin juice? Harry hoped it was the former. He watched Hermione clutch her manual to her chest, and he realized that she was wishing the same thing.

He looked to Ron to see how he was taking the news. Of course it was in true Ron fashion. Complete and utter disbelief. Ron looked like a great war raged in his head. They were just on the moon-- but that wasn't _real,_ it couldn't _happen_-- but it _did_. Ron didn't know what to believe. But that was okay, because Harry was confused himself.

"Yes, it was." Hermione said. From the tone of her voice Harry could tell that she meant odd in a _good_ way.

"Yes, it was." Ron said. From the tone of _his_ voice Harry could tell that he meant odd in a _bad _way.

Harry sighed. He didn't know what type of odd it was, good or bad. He really didn't want to have to decide that night. It was getting late, and with all of the weird things that had just happened, he just wanted to go to sleep and give into his subconsciousness.

But that wouldn't be happening soon.

The three wizards made it to the end of the secret passageway. Once they were all out they quickly sealed it up. Luckily, the entrance was sealed roughyl five seconds before Snape caught them.

Why was it always _Snape_?

Harry groaned inwardly, and resisted the urge to smack his professor when he saw the flicker of the smile that appeared on Snape's face.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger." Snape surrounded them like one lion surveying his prey. "What are _you_ doing after hours?"

No one was going to answer him. Not that Snape was looking for an answer. He immediately told them all to march to the Headmaster's office, the look of glee unmistakable on his face.

"Chocolate frog," Snape ordered the gargoyle. It began turning and twisting and when it was finished, Snape led them up the stairs.

Ron was looking at Harry to see how they were going to handle this. On the one hand, Dumbledore was smart. He might know what was going on with Nita and Kit and the difference in magic. On the other hand, should they get their new "friends" in trouble?

Harry didn't have a lot of time to think about it, for soon they stood in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"It's eleven thirty at night, Severus." Dumbledore said. Harry couldn't help cracking a smile at Dumbledore and his jammies. He even wore a nightcap, something that Harry thought bore a strange resemblance to Mickey Mouse's wizard hat. But Harry suppressed his smile when he saw that Snape was looking at him.

"Out, yet again, after hours and no where _near _the Gryffindor common room. I gave all three of them detention."

The three young wizards winced. Snape hadn't told them what their punishment was going to be, but it was just as they feared. Detention. Harry and Ron took this news better than Hermione. In an effort to save herself she cried, "But we had a good _reason!"_

Snape laughed bitterly. "And what reason is that?" he asked nastily. It was now that Snape noticed the book in Hermione's hands. In a swift movement the book was in Snape's hands and he was leafing through it with zeal, eager to find something dirty on Harry, Ron or Hermione. "Trying to master an evil spell, huh? Brewing a forbidden potion? I bet this book was in the Restricted Section!"

"No, sir!" Hermione pleaded. "The book... the book is mine!"

Snape kept turning the pages, but each time he tuned down the enthusiasm. Soon he was looking at the book with disgust. He threw it back to Hermione who caught it and grasped it even tighter to her chest. "It's nothing, Headmaster." Snape said rather disappointed. "It's some children's fairytale."

Harry and Ron looked toward each other. Both of them knew that the book was not a fairytale, but in actuality a complex spell book. So this book had the ability to change its appearance at will, much like the Maurader's Map. That would be useful.

"What is the book called?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"'A Tale of Two Powers'." Snape said, "But the name of the book, or the reason they were out after hours doesn't really matter when you consider the fact that they were _still _breaking the rules." Snape seemed over eager to get them all in trouble, but Dumbledore looked like he couldn't care less. He lifted one wrinkled hand and told Severus that he should go back to his room, Dumbledore would handle it from here. Snape looked at Harry like he _really _wanted to stick his tongue out at him. But being the mature professor in this situation and not a third grader, Snape left swiftly.

Once it was just the Headmaster and the students, Dumbledore extended his hand. "Miss Granger, the book, please?"

Hermione shot Harry a worried look, but handed Professor Dumbledore the book. Harry wondered what the book would show for Dumbledore. To Hermione it had been a spell book, to Snape a fairytale. Maybe Dumbledore would see it as one of the two, or something completely different. Either way, there was something really weird about that book.

Dumbledore held the book gently in one hand, and in the other hand he slowly turned the pages. He possessed none of the vigor that Snape had, but all of the curiosity.

"Where did you get this book, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, still turning the pages.

"Er..." Hermione looked to Ron for an answer, but Ron just shrugged. She turned to Harry who didn't know what to do either. Finally she settled on answering that she got it from the school's library.

"Why, Hermione, did you feel the need to go out at eleven thirty at night, with a children's book? Did you not feel that the common room would be a suitable place for reading it?"

Harry could see that Hermione was nervous. Harry was too. Dumbledore just kept turning the pages, not revealing anything but simple curiosity. They didn't know if they were in trouble, or what. Hermione didn't know how to respond to that question so she said the first, and dumbest, thing that came to her mind.

"When we left it was ten."

"Ah," was all Dumbledore left them with.

There was silence as Dumbledore kept turning the pages. Harry wondered who was going to be the one to break the silence, and then settled on himself. "Professor," When he saw that he had the headmaster's attention, Harry continued, "I got a note on the Quidditch field yesterday." Harry felt around in his jeans pockets until he produced the note. He handed it out to the headmaster who made no attempt to get it. Feeling stupid, Harry lowered his hand and let it fall to his side. He went on. "Um, it said to get someplace safe, someplace we couldn't be disturbed. I chose the Three Broomsticks, and we left. It was... weird because we met--"

Dumbledore was holding his hand out now. Finished with the book, he held it closed in one hand. With the other he asked for Harry's note. Harry gave it to him. Dumbledore unfolded the note and the read it.

"Hmm." Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, I must comment that it was very foolish of you to go. While they said they were here to help, a Death Eater would have said the same thing in order to lure you to a place where it would be easy to end your life." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "However I have to say I am curious as to what happened during your meeting."

"We went to the moon." Ron offered.

Harry imagined what Dumbledore was feeling when Ron said that. What Ron was saying _was _pretty ridiculous. The moon? Harry eyed Dumbledore and wondered if he believed them. But Dumbledore, as usual, gave nothing away.

"The moon?" he asked casually.

"Erm, yes, Professor." Hermione said. By the sheepish look on her face, she too recognized the ridiculousness of the statement. "We had a very odd night. The people we met, the ones who gave Harry the note, they weren't... rather they were... it's hard to explain."

"They weren't _normal_." Ron said. Hermione gave Ron a look, but Ron turned to Professor Dumbledore. "They didn't wear robes. They didn't have wands, instead they carried books. They had no clue what butter-beer was. They hadn't even heard of You-Know-Who or Death Eaters. They were almost as nutters as Loony Lovegood in Ravenclaw--" Suddenly Ron realized he'd just made fun of a student in front of the headmaster and he shut his mouth. He gave Harry a look, asking him to finish. Harry took a deep breath.

"They said that Hermione could have their kind of magic --they called it wizardry-- too, because she had that book." Harry motioned to the book Dumbledore was still holding, "All she had to do was take an Oath. Hermione didn't believe them, none of us did really, so they asked us if we wanted a demonstration. And then, they took us to the moon."

Harry, Ron and Hermione grew silent as they remembered their experience on the moon. If anything of that night, Harry hoped that the experience hadn't been just a dream. What he saw up there compared to nothing on Earth. He didn't want that memory to be because of a potion slipped in their morning juice. Dumbledore interrupted Harry's thoughts.

"That sounds like quite a night." Dumbledore said thoughtfully thinking to himself.

"It was." Harry agreed.

They were silent again, watching the old man think. Dumbledore snapped from his reverie and retreated to his desk. He sat in his chair placing Harry's note and Hermione's book on one side of his desk. From a drawer somewhere Dumbeldore produced a paper and a quill and some ink. He began writing, the three students before him going unnoticed until he finished his writing. "What are the names of the children you met?"

Harry told him. "Nita Callahan and Kit Rodreiguez,"

Dumbledore nodded twice and continued writing.

"Why do you need their names, Professor?"

Professor Dumbledore rubbed the side of his chin thoughtfully with his quill before answering. "I am inviting them to dinner. Hopefully some of the questions you have will be answered, and I have some questions myself."

"Do we still get detention?" Ron asked. Dumbledore nodded and Ron moaned.

"I am afraid that you still broke the rules. Even if you did uncover something great. Now, you must get to bed. Tomorrow is an important day."

* * *

_"The Bright One knew that one day the Great War would rise up again with a wizard representing her on one side and a wizard representing the Lone One on the other. She only hoped that she had given her children the right weapons to defeat the evil once again."_

For a long time Nita stared at the book. It hadn't really hit her yet that _this_was what she had come to Great Britain to do.She was thinking, Hmm nice story, and didn't make the connection while reading it. But now it dawned on her. The Great War would rise up again, it said. One wizard representing the Bright One and another representing the Lone One. So Nita was in the middle of the Second Great War. Or was it only the beginning?

Kit had finished reading also. He closed his manual solemnly and looked Tom square in the eye. "This is what we've come here to do?" Kit asked, "Fight in this Second Great War?"

Tom had known it all along. This was the secret that he and Carl had been keeping from them. Obviously they hadn't wanted Nita and Kit to get involved, even though they knew it would happen eventually. Something had made them reveal their secret. Was it urgency? The fact that time was too little? Or had something gone wrong like Nita had suspected?

"Kind of," Tom said. He leaned back in his chair looking a little relieved. Now the burden was spread between the four of them. That didn't make it any easier, Nita thought noting the stress lines still on Tom's face. "It's not our war to fight. I think Nita had that dream so we could find the Harborer of the Bright One and then help him build an army of Britain's wizards. And if that _is_our job over here then we've already done part of it. We've found the Harborer in the Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter."

Nita wasn't surprised. She had already made her guess while Tom was talking, and Tom saying it had just confirmed her theory. It all made sense. How else could a tiny infant have defeated the most powerful wizards in Great Britain? The only thing that could evade the Killing Curse would have been a Power, it only made sense that the Bright One was working through Harry.

"The other part, the building the army part? Is that what you and Carl were having trouble with?" Nita asked.

Tom looked a bit defensive but that quickly passed over. "No, but that part won't be easy. What we need is the entire magical community of Great Britain to fight alongside Harry Potter. But we took a trip into a well known wizarding city and picked up a newspaper, _The Daily Prophet_." Tom smiled weakly, "Propaganda is all most of it was. Apparently there was a big scandal last year when Harry declared that Voldemort was back. Most people didn't believe him, even with all of these deaths popping up everywhere. Wanting to live in ignorance, the Minister of Magic says in every interview he does with the Daily Prophet, that Harry Potter was lying and that he shouldn't be trusted. Most people think that Harry's crazy."

"So if we go around asking people to sign up for an army to fight an evil wizard who apparently _doesn't exist_ they are going to think that _we're_ crazy." Kit said dryly.

Tom nodded. "It's Carl's job to focus on the 'war' aspect, how exactly we are going to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It's my job to gather together an army. Hopefully Harry has some supporters out there, but I don't want to rely on only those. It all depends on if everything goes as planned tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow I visit the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

* * *

Tom didn't know how this man, this fidgety nervous thing, had become Minister of Magic. He didn't look like he could do anything for himself, and he kept looking around as if half expecting an assassin to jump out at him. Tom realized that his news probably wouldn't make the man any more relaxed, but he had to get the word out.

"So..." Tom was about to ask about the weather, but the Minister obviously wasn't in a mood for small talk.

"Say what you want," Fudge said in a way that might have been menacing if his teeth weren't chattering, "And then leave. I have... er, urgent matters to attend to."

Tom knew that Fudge only wanted him out of the Minister's office, and that the urgent matters probably included a nap. He realized that this man wasn't likely to be someone he'd become good friends with, but that didn't matter. That wasn't why he was here. Meeting the Minister and using his connections was something that needed to happen in order of the Army of the Bright One to reach its full potential. Tom had seen how the _Daily Prophet_had greatly influenced the minds of Britain's wizarding community, and if he and Carl could spin that power for their cause, Voldemort would have no chance.

"Minister Fudge, sir, I've seen your interviews in the _Daily Prophet_. The ones about Harry Potter and You-Know-Who returning," Tom paused there. The look of utter horrification on Fudge's face would have stopped anyone. Tom shouldn't have paused because now he was having second thoughts about coming here at all.

"_Yes_?" Fudge asked. He didn't try to mask his total disgust for the subject.

"You seem to have gotten the wrong information," Tom said trying to make Fudge's ignorance on the subject into just a misinformation to get on his good side, "Volde- You-Know-Who _is_ back. And the thing is, you need to admit this to yourself--"

Fudge had stood up and slammed his fist on the desk so loudly that Tom's voice trailed off. "'Admit_ this to myself_'? You sound exactly like Dumbledore is that-- are you in league with Dumbledore?" Tom hadn't a clue who Dumbledore was, but apparently being friends with him was taboo around Fudge. "_You-Know-Who is not back,"_ Fudge hissed.

_Denial_, Tom thought. _Lucky for me it's _my_ job to change his mind._"Yes, he is. Tom Riddle, Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named _is_back, and we all need to admit it to ourselves if we have any chance in defeating him." Fudge flinched when Tom said Voldemort's name, but Tom continued anyway. It was like trying to convince a stubborn child, and once again Tom couldn't figure out how _this_ was the leader of the magical community. "And I need your help and your connection with the Daily Prophet to gather an army so that we can fight against You-Know-Who--"

"And I suppose the person who would lead this army would be Harry Potter?" Fudge spit out.

Something told Tom that both Harry and Dumbledore's names were not to be said in front of the Minister, and that he shouldn't answer the question truthfully with a 'yes'.

"We'd _all _be fighting against an evil that has threatened the wizarding community. Minister, this goes far deeper than a murderous wizard out to destroy a fifteen yr. old boy--"

"I'm telling you he's not back," Fudge argued. Tom chose to ignore this and continued, bringing out his manual.

"Voldemort's motives are broader. Take a look at the families he's been killing." Fudge's eyes had widened and Tom let a little of his impatience show, "What? you didn't think that all of the Pemberton's had died of natural causes? No, the Pemberton's had a little girl of around 11 yrs. old. About the age a child gets offered to learn of the art of wizardry in your world. But in our world a wizard as young as that would have bountiful power. If Voldemort came to her with a proposition to join his army, and she refused, he wouldn't be happy about that would he? He certainly wouldn't want her to join _our_ side. Why not kill them all?"

Fudge's mouth was set in a firm line. Tom couldn't tell if Fudge was taking it all in or not, so he opened his mouth to start again. Fudge interrupted him before he could get a word out. "What do you mean _your_ world?"

Tom sighed. Explaining things to Nita and Kit had been simple, or at least less complicated than he _knew_ things were about to get. "It all comes back to the reason _why_You-Know-Who is after Harry Potter and the Pemberton's child." Tom whispered the page he wanted to his manual and it flipped to the story, _A Tale of Two Powers_. He stood up and walked over to Fudge's desk. Fudge was hesitant, but in the end reached out his hand for the book.

Tom sat back down in the visitor's chair and waited. It shouldn't be long now, Tom thought, before Fudge realized that he would have to face the facts that Voldemort was back. He would put down the book, nod his head, and immediately start calling --or whatever Britain wizard's version of it was-- the _Daily Prophet_to post a flyer calling for wizards willing to create an army. He expected these events to unfold, what he did _not_ expect was Fudge to close the book abruptly and then throw it into the fireplace.

"You're mad!" Fudge yelled.

Tom's eyes darted back and forth from his manual that was slowly burning in the fire to the distraught Minister who was now shaking. "He is _not_back! He vanished, disappeared, vamoose! from the face of the earth. Both you and Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter are all bloody _nuts_ if you believe that. And then you go a spin this kind of... _fairy tale_ expecting me to believe it. Pah. The Lone Power? The Bright One? Next you'll be telling me that Potter is some kind of _god_."

Tom wasn't about to correct him and say, 'Not a god, a Power' because he was still watching in disbelief as his manual burned. It wasn't the manual being used as firewood that bothered him. It would just reappear in a different form, completely unharmed. It was Fudge's complete _ignorance_to the fact that all of their lives were in danger. It was the fact that, as the Minister it was his job to protect all of Britain's magical community, but instead he was ignoring every piece of evidence Tom flashed in his face. And all right, the story was a bit of a stretch, but Fudge was acting childish and being naive. And it was his naïveté that would kill thousands of young eleven and twelve year olds and their families in an attempt to wipe out all of the natural wizards in Britain. Tom was furious, but managed to keep his cool. That is until Fudge had several aurors drag Tom out.

The aurors weren't necessary. They pointed their wands at Tom as though he were a threat to the entire Ministry, even though Tom was walking calmly beside them. Well, calmly all except for his hands. They were shaking. If he wasn't a Senior and if Nita and Kit didn't look up to him (and, oh yeah, if the fate of Great Britain and the rest of the world weren't in his hands) he would have found a spell to take down the aurors and gone back to strangle Fudge. Now, because of Fudge's nescience things had not gone at all well. Tom would have to build an entire army for the Bright One without the help of the media or the Minister's stamp of approval. He would attempt to find all the natural born wizards old enough to find their wizardry, and somehow get them ready, and somehow...

Tom groaned in frustration and the wands at his neck dug in harder, as though a 'groan' were a signal for Tom's cronies to attack. Because of course, thanks to Fudge, they all thought he was crazy. Okay, he could live with that. Right now he had bigger problems. For instance, building an army of eleven year olds. Or finding a decent weapon for the Harborer to use in facing against Voldemort. Or stopping an evil wizard with almost limitless power from destroying the world.

* * *

"This is agony," Kit wailed sprawled on Nita's bed. Nita could only nod her head in agreement, flip the channel, and check the manual's listing. She had flipped to the 'G' page and was not flipping anywhere else for anything. She could use Kit's manual for reading on the story, but her manual always had to be glued to that one page. As soon as Hermione became a wizard, she would know and she'd send them a message for another meeting. But she agreed with Kit, the waiting was torture. They had given Hermione two hours after normal wake-up time to get her act together and maybe eat breakfast. But now it was noon and they had yet to see Hermione's name flash under the listing. Nita had given in to her boredom and decided to feed it by watching hours of endless television. They had some of the same shows as in the U.S., but that didn't make the quality of those shows any better.

"I swear if I have to see one more clichéd episode of one more stupid sitcom I'll..." Kit demonstrated what he'd do by making a couple of growling noises. Nita found this mildly amusing, but then the amusement wore off and she checked her manual again. It hadn't changed since last minute when she'd checked, and she sighed.

Kit was now lying on his back, tracing the ceiling patterns with his fingers. Tom had left a few hours ago in search of the Minister of Magic, and Carl had gone out shopping so that Nita, Kit and the Seniors could "blend".

"Hey, Neets?" Kit asked monotonously. Nita gave a grunt in response that told Kit to keep talking. "How exactly are we going to tell Harry that he holds inside of him the spirit of a Power, and that it's his destiny to face the Power who invented Death?"

Nita stopped cold. She smiled nervously at the way Kit had put it. "Uh, it's not something we can just ease into the conversation, is it?"

It was just like before when Nita had thought of how she could tell Harry that he was being sought after by an evil wizard. Only that had turned out to be something he already knew. Nita was pretty sure that Harry had no idea one of the beings that created the Universe was no resting in his body.

Luckily she was saved from having to think of the awkward conversation because Carl came in. He was holding a big pile of black cloth in one hand and some small boxes in the other. Kit shifted his position on the bed to make room for Carl's purchases. Carl laid down the black cloth which Nita could see was really four robes, like the ones Harry Ron and Hermione had been wearing. Two large and two medium.

"Fashion show," Carl said dryly.

Just because she was bored Nita stood up and walked over to the bed to take a look at the robes. Hers were a shimmery black/purple. She picked them up and held them against herself. Nita looked around for a mirror. When she finally found one she cocked her head and examined what she might look like dressed in robes.

"We don't have to wear them in the hotel, only when we go out into Britain's wizarding world. We don't want to stand out as American Muggle Tourists." Carl said slipping his own robes on.

Nita followed his example and slipped the robes over her tee and jeans. When she had situated the robes to where they didn't feel completely odd, she looked at herself in the mirror.

"Looks great," Kit said softly looking at her reflection too. Nita's face flashed bright red, and she ducked under her robes before Kit could see it. Kit _did_ see the blush, but he pretended as though he hadn't asking Carl about the small boxes.

"Chocolate frogs," Carl said grinning. He tossed a couple to Kit. "My new favorite sweet. Be careful the frogs don't hop away," Carl added heading out the door.

Nita and Kit had no clue what he meant, until Kit opened a chocolate frog box, paused to inspect it and fell down when the frog jumped out of the box on its own.

Nita grinned. "Catch the Frog?" she asked, inventing a new game on the spot.

Kit shrugged and smiled along with her. "Better than tracing the ceiling or watching one more episode of Hannah Montana." Nita agreed and they started their game.

She was just about to grab hold of the frog when something in the window caught her eye. She glanced at the window, missing her chance to grab the frog, but not really caring when she saw what it was.

A beautiful snowy owl had landed in the window frame. Her head was twitching in that way that owls do, and one of her legs was sticking out. It held a note. For Nita? She wondered...

Suddenly a second owl perched at the window, its leg stuck out too. Nita didn't think that owls were so common in this part of Great Britain. And two very different species of owls made it all together more mysterious.

The snowy one seemed to be getting impatient. She jumped off her perch and outstretched her wings, heading straight for Nita. On her flight to Nita she barely missed Kit who had caught the chocolate frog.

"Wha...?" he asked looking from the window to the gliding bird inside their hotel room.

When the white owl was directly in front of Nita, she hovered in the air. Nita guessed what the bird was waiting for and held out her hands as a cup. The note that the owl had been clutching fell from its claws and landed in Nita's hand. Following the example of the snowy owl, the brown one in the window flew into the room. Once Nita had both papers the two owls exited the room, first the snowy owl and then the brown one.

Nita and Kit stood staring at each other for a few minutes afterward. Kit smiled with a hint of confusion. "What kind of world have we entered?"

Nita returned the bemused smile. They both sat on the bed, Kit chewing on his prize for catching the frog, and Nita fingering the papers. One was a small note, folded into quarters. Scrawled on the back was the name Harry Potter. The other was an official looking envelope. It read that it was from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Open Harry's first," Kit said, "It might have news about Hermione." Both sets of eyes turned to the manual that was still open on the floor. But Hermione Granger's name had not appeared. So what could this note be about?

Nita mentally shrugged as she unfolded the note. "Nita and Kit," she read, "I hope Hedwig found you. I'm not sure if this is bad news or good news, but we got caught last night. We told them about you. Actually we told Professor Dumbledore, our headmaster. We wanted some things cleared up, and although we are still in the dark about most everything, Professor Dumbledore wants to meet you. He's going to send you an owl with an official invitation, but we just wanted to warn you. Hermione says hi. -Harry."

Nita wasted no time in opening the other envelope. Harry was right, it was just an official invitation to dinner that night, telling them to bring their guardians.

Kit read over Nita's shoulder, and scrunched his face up. "Should we go?" he asked her, returning to his original position on the bed.

"We have to, right?" Nita said. She folded Harry's note and the note from the headmaster and placing them both in the envelope. "I mean, we have to tell Harry about the Power and the story. And the Second Great War of course. We just have to ask Tom and Carl."

"Yeah. Perfect opportunity for building an army." Kit grinned, "Plus we'll have an excuse to wear those ever-stylish robes."

Nita laughed. "Perfect for every occasion, including telling a fifteen year old boy that the fate of the world lies in his hands," she said heading for the Senior's hotel room. "Come on, let's ask Carl."

**Author's Note: Bye. See you in about a month, because that's how long it's going to take for another chapter to come up. Sorry, not your fault, testing is coming.**

**-lys **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Happy Halloween," Nita said, commenting on the long purple robes she was wearing. Even though Kit Tom and Carl were all dressed like her, she still felt as though she were getting ready to go out on October 31st and beg people for candy.

"It feels like I'm wearing a dress," Kit said, twirling for Nita's amusement. She laughed. "Or a really long, really light coat. Either way at least we blend."

Right. They'd "blend". Somehow Nita doubted that. The differences between her world and Harry and Hermione's world were so extreme. Just in the streets of that one magic town she had gawked and went wide-eyed over the simplest things. It had just been so different to everything she'd been accustomed to. Everything she'd learned about her wizardry had all been thrown out the window, replaced by something dangerously new. The knowledge of _why_ it was so different, didn't shake the feeling that this isolated wizarding world gave her.

"Ready you two?" Tom asked, peeking behind the door to Nita's room.

Nita nodded, snatching her manual from where she had been reading it on her bed. The three wizards headed down the hall to where Carl was waiting with a locator spell for them.

* * *

Harry rushed down the stairs that emptied into the common room. Everyone else was at dinner, save the two lone figures near the portrait hole. Dumbledore explained that, rather than going to the Great Hall with everyone else, Harry Ron and Hermione would wait until a certain hour, and then go directly to his office.

Harry greeted his friends with a nervous wave. Hermione had a look of indecision on her face, as though she were struggling with a heavy choice. She briefly glanced up at him, murmuring soft words under her breath as she lowered her head.

"Shall we go then?" Ron asked, scratching nervously at an itch of discomfort. He threw Hermione an odd look, as though to ask about her reticence, but because he got no response he turned towards the portrait hole.

They made their way out of the Gryffindor dormitory. Ron and Harry were afraid to talk, trying to work out what was wrong with Hermione. Ron inquired an answer from Harry in a look, but Harry shook his head. Hermione did not look at either of them, but chose to walk, now in silence, biting her lip and staring at something not there in the space in front of her.

Harry himself was a little uneasy about dinner with the headmaster and the two strange "wizards", but obviously not as much as Hermione, who wore an expression of fear on her face. What was there to be afraid of? Maybe something Hermione read in that book of hers? Harry decided that it was unimportant, and made his main focus getting to the Headmaster's office on time.

They arrived at the gargoyle at... Harry checked his watch, 8:59. That meant it would be one minute before the guests would arrive. For some reason they were always extremely punctual. Were they eating in the Headmaster's office? As if reading Harry's mind, Ron transferred his thoughts aloud. An old, but amused, voice answered. "Actually, Mr. Weasley, I have a pleasant room, especially for times such as these, when we have guests at Hogwarts and I want to privately accommodate them." Three heads turned to the figure that had emerged from the shadows. Professor Dumbledore greeted his three students and they returned the greeting, Hermione albeit absentmindedly.

Ron opened his mouth to ask another question, but was cut off by a loud _POP!_ noise coming from what once was an empty hallway. Now four bodies occupied that space.

They looked like normal wizards; save the occasional uncomfortable shuffle they did under their robes. Their Muggle attire had been exchanged for the normal wizarding dress. Kit, who inspected the surrounding castle walls with an air of awe, wore sharp green robes. Nita wore soft purple robes, and she looked to be the one most uncomfortable by them. The two eldest of the four were both tall, dark haired men, one with stubble of a beard. They were dressed in ordinary black robes, and didn't look as uncomfortable as Nita did. Rather their eyes looked to be scanning and evaluating Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore just as Harry was observing them. When the man with the small beard looked over Harry his eyes widened, and he gave a small, almost sad smile. Harry wondered what that was about, and he started to do Nita's dance of discomfort, shifting on his feet.

He wished someone would say something. Eventually Dumbledore broke the stare-off, clapping his hands jovially. His face broke out into a smile, and it seemed to Harry as though he was giving his approval of the visitors. Dumbledore extended a long, silvery-blue robed arm to the four, and introduced himself.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am the headmaster of this school, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

The man with the stubble of a beard introduced himself as Tom Swale, then the other shook Dumbledore's hand claiming to be Carl Romeo. Nita shook Dumbledore's hand, trying not to look completely startled by his appearance. Kit tried to suppress his amusement, but his smile still showed when he stuck out his hand for Dumbledore to shake. Both Kit and Nita acknowledged Harry, Ron and Hermione with a smile and a nod. Harry nodded back, and Ron gave a feeble wave, after looking to Harry to see what he'd done. Hermione's head was still locked in her own state of thought.

"Well then," Dumbledore said after all the visitors had made themselves known, "Shall we take this meeting to our private dining room?"

Tom Swale and Carl Romeo both nodded, following Dumbledore down the long hallway. The glances they gave each other made it seem as though they were having a conversation in their minds, probably about the new world they'd landed in.

Kit and Nita doubled back to talk to Harry and Ron.

"Nice place," Kit commented, grinning at the suit of armor they passed. The grin stopped for a sharp moment when the suit of armor waved at him, but then came back more severe than before.

"Bizarre," Nita said in a comment that was probably meant to be kept to herself, as she looked embarrassed that Harry'd heard it. "Sorry," she apologized, but she didn't take back her comment.

"S'okay," Harry forgave, "That was my first reaction to the castle, too." He wondered if he were to be the one to keep the conversation going. Hermione still looked as though she was in a battle with herself, and Ron just looked very uncomfortable. He kept his eyes on the walls, and made no attempt to talk to Nita or Kit. Harry soon realized that it was okay because Kit and Nita had a lot of questions, enough to make it so that their short walk to the private dining room wasn't filled with an awkward silence.

"How do you get those pictures to move?"

"We take them with normal, Muggle cameras and then we keep them in a special potion for a while."

"Why do the staircases move?" On there way to the dining room, they'd hopped a moving staircase, which Kit observed with the most intense look of curiosity. It was as he put one apprehensive foot on the stair, that it began to move. Surprised at sudden motion, Kit had fallen backward, giving a sheepish grin to Nita who had caught him.

"For the amusement of the passerby, I should think," Dumbledore answered this question, sending Kit one of his small smiles of amusement. The group, save Hermione --what _was_ she thinking about?--, laughed, and still had the leftovers of a smile on their face as the staircase reach its destination. They unloaded, filing onto a small balcony, the only visible pathway to the door that stood before them. Dumbledore tilted his head toward the wooden door, nodding and commenting for the benefit of all who couldn't hear, "Ah, they have already arrived."

Dumbledore twisted the knob to reveal the awaiting figures of Remus Lupin and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. Lupin's weathered face lit up when he saw Harry. Harry waved and returned Lupin's, "Hello" with his own. Moody looked around at the group with distrust, his unnatural blue eye giving each person a once-over. Harry shivered, remembering his encounter with a man who'd looked just like the one before him. Thinking back about how that same man had tried to _kill_ him, his greeting to this Moody was wary.

"Sit, sit," Dumbledore said gesturing to those who'd just entered, and also the two men who'd arrived before them. Harry wondered why they were there at all, or if they were going to leave. But Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody sat down with the rest of them.

Harry sat with Ron and Hermione on either side of him. Kit awkwardly took a seat next to Alastor Moody, and Nita next to him, but their guardians chose to sit on the other side of Ron making them nearer to the headmaster. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, hands folded in front of him. On his left sat Mad-Eye and Lupin next to him.

In front of each guest was an empty plate, a fork, a spoon and two glasses, much like the set-up of the Great Hall's feast. Beyond their individual plates were platters of food. Delicious sandwiches, pies, meats and vegetables lay upon them. Harry watched as Dumbledore tipped his glass to his lips and murmured, "_Pumpkin juice"_. The requested drink landed in his glass, as though poured by an invisible servant. Nita and Kit watched this with interest before following suit. And although their query for Pepsi was not granted, they did get the water they chose secondly. Once all the guests' glasses were filled, Dumbledore tucked his long silver beard were it would not be stained with sauce or food, and asked everyone to "Tuck in."

And tuck in they did. At first, Harry was hesitant, but when he realized that no important conversation was going to get on while they were stuffing their faces, he enthusiastically started for the nearest pie. Finally, after a reasonable amount of time for eating had passed, Dumbledore began with his inquisition. Lupin and Moody stopped almost abruptly to listen to Dumbledore's answers and the newcomer's questions. Harry finished off the last of his pie, and Hermione finally snapped out of her dream state to listen in. Ron was chewing furiously on a chicken, but his eyes did occasionally drift over to his Headmaster, and Nit and Kit had followed Harry in looking towards the conversation while simultaneously eating.

Before Dumbledore actually said anything, he produced two items from his robes. One was Harry's note, and the other Hermione's book. Harry didn't have to look to Hermione to know her reaction, he heard the sharp swallowing of her food, and the small coughing that ensued from eating too fast.

"I trust you are aware of the meeting between Nita Callahan, Kit Rodriguez and my students?" Dumbledore asked conversationally.

"We are," Tom Swale answered.

"Would it be too bold of me to ask who you are, what you're doing here, and what purpose you have with my students?" Dumbledore asked, his voice hinting at a small amount of uncertainty.

"It would not," Carl answered. "We were fully prepared for those questions, and we are well equipped to answer them. It would be much easier to explain, however, if you would take the time to read a story."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, and stroked a beard thoughtfully. "_A Tale of Two Powers,_ is it?" he asked.

Tom and Carl nodded, their eyes going towards Hermione's manual and then to the Headmaster and concluding that he'd read it. _A Tale of Two Powers_... thought Harry. That was the title Snape had read out after being fooled by the manual. But hadn't the manual just been disguising itself as a children's book? Harry asked himself. The Headmaster apparently felt the same way.

"I thought it a children's story," said Dumbledore.

"That story, is much more real than you or I," Tom started. Harry noticed Nita and Kit's sudden erectness while Tom was talking about the story. He concluded that this story was much more than what he originally thought, than all the credit Snape had given it. He felt a bit left out as he hadn't read it, and as though he'd missed something important. "That is the story of how this land came to be. You said that you've read it, and you ask who we are. It would be easier to explain who _we_ are, by telling you who _you _are. You are the Children of the Bright One, the ones She fought so hard to protect." Dumbledore, Lupin, Mad-Eye and even Hermione seemed to accept this with less bemusement than Ron and Harry.

They exchanged looks before Ron swallowed the last of his chicken, cleared his throat and said, "Erm... if you don't mind me asking, what are you talking about?"

Tom nodded, looking at Ron, Harry and Hermione. His eyes widened in surprise when they reached Hermione and she looked back at him with a manner of understanding. But Harry figured that this story had been in Hermione's manual, and in true Hermione fashion, she'd devoured the entire book. So when Tom and Carl stopped to tell the story it was really to Harry and Ron.

Harry listened intently to their tale about the beginning of the world. He listened when they spoke of the Great War between the Bright One's armies and the armies backed by the Lone One. A coldness inched on Harry's back when they spoke of the Lone Power, the creator of Death. When Tom explained about the war between wizardry and weapons and how wizardry had prevailed, Harry nodded. He was following the story as Ron was. The problem that Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that... well... it was just a _story_. The seriousness in which Tom spoke about gods fighting each other, didn't clear up the severe doubt in Harry's mind. When Harry snuck a peek at Ron, he could tell that Ron felt the same way. In fact, the look on Ron's face was etching away from confusion and growing to disbelief. If it weren't for the fact that Nita and Kit had taken them to the moon --Harry was becoming less sure that it had actually happened by the minute-- Harry would've written the lot of them off as crazy.

Tom and Carl finished their narrative, both sitting back in their chairs, their speech now directed to the whole room.

Dumbledore had been waiting patiently to say his bit, and as he didn't want to interrupt, he took their breathing spell as his place to jump in. "If we are the Children of the Bright One --and I am not saying that I am completely adherent-- then that would make you...?"

"Natural wizards," Carl explained, "Wizards who have received wizardry as a gift from the Powers that Be, rather than by the Bright One's generosity."

Harry looked to see how everyone was taking it. Nita and Kit looked like they believed this whole-heartedly, but then they would as these two were their guardians. Mad-Eye Moody's blue eye was quickly darting back and forth between the two men, occasionally glancing at Nita or Kit, all the while evaluating their trust. Lupin looked tiredly at Dumbledore, waiting to take whatever his direction was on this. Harry noticed the sudden change in Hermione. Whereas before she'd seemed to be living into herself, now she was completely focused on all aspects of the situation. She was biting her lip anxiously and sitting on her hands, as though they might jerk out suddenly in involuntary movement. Ron shared Harry's feeling of disbelief, although he chose to display it obviously on his face.

"You don't believe this, do you?" whispered Ron.

Harry shrugged, focusing his attention on what Dumbledore was going to say next. Dumbledore didn't say anything next, instead waved his hand, motioning for them to go on. They had two questions they'd left unanswered, and, like Dumbledore, Harry wanted to know the answer to those too.

"I understand your skepticism," Tom said, choosing his words carefully, "Because you don't yet know how urgent this is, and I thank you for keeping an open mind. As for what we're doing here, that all rests on the next half of the story, the half you haven't read about.

"We are left, at the end of the story, with a promise from the Lone Power, saying that he will one day have his revenge on the Bright One. That was initially why the Bright One chose to forfeit Her status as a Power in order to protect her people. Several centuries passed and there were still no signs of the Lone One's revenge. While there was anticipation in our world, it was mostly relief, as those of us who knew the story also knew that with Its revenge would come another war. Three things had to happen before a Second Great War could occur. One: There had to be a natural wizard to do the Lone One's bidding. Two: the rapid birth of natural wizards who also possessed the Bright One's gift of magic," Was it Harry's imagination, or did Tom's eyes flicker to Hermione for a second? But, Harry looked toward Hermione and saw that Hermione knew she was the subject of his gaze. Right away Harry didn't like where this was going. "And three," for some awful reason Tom was looking now at Harry. Harry didn't want to know what Tom was going to say next, for the look in Tom's eyes was heavy with sadness. "Three," Tom repeated, "A human must be born as the Harborer of the Bright One. Headmaster Dumbledore, it saddens me to say this but all three requirements have been met. Hermione Granger has been offered, from the Powers That Be, a Manual that will teach her the ways of a natural wizard. The natural wizard that complies with the Lone Power's commands is, as you call him, Lord Voldemort. And the Harborer of the Bright One is Harry Potter."

"There's a war looming, Headmaster," Carl finished. He continued with a doleful voice, "And _that_ is why we are here. To fight in the Second Great War. As for what we need of your students, it's more of what we need from all of your kind who have been offered the manual. We need them to help us fight in the war. Sadly, Voldemort seems to be killing off the natural wizards that refuse to join his side. If Hermione would take the Oath and join us, that would relieve some of our burden. Harry... Harry is a different matter."

Silence.

Eyes that had shifted to Hermione, now rested on Harry. Even though he'd dealt with other people looking at him curiously, never with this magnitude. Now, it wasn't just his scar they were curious about, now it was _him_. Harry's face turned hot as he dealt with the idea that he might be harboring some kind of "Power" inside of him. Apparently he was a "different matter". He wondered what Carl had meant like that, and why he'd said it like he said. He started scratching at himself in discomfort. He didn't like the idea of something else being inside him. He didn't like it at all. He looked towards Dumbledore to see what he had to say about this, hoping that he would denounce it as a farce. Unfortunately for Harry, nothing could be read on the old man's face.

"They're crazy, all of them," Ron muttered, although he ended up saying it a lot louder than he had intended, and some of the gazes in the room switched to look at him. He turned bright red, as Nita demanded, "How can you not believe us after last night?"

"It _is_ quite a claim, Miss Callahan," Dumbledore said at last. "I am not entirely convinced of it myself,"

Nita looked incredulously at Dumbledore as if to say, "_You're_ the lot that's unbelievable," but when she spoke it was not to Dumbledore, but to Hermione. "You believe us, don't you? You've got the manual, and we didn't give that to you, the Powers That Be did."

While Nita was trying to gather assurance from Hermione, Harry looked for it from Dumbledore. He didn't want to be called on by Nita or Kit to give his view, because he wasn't quite sure of what he would say. Did he believe them? He desperately didn't want it to be true. All of his life he'd wanted to be normal, and having a god or a Power, or a whatever inside of him would ensure that normalcy would never show itself to him. But there were so many unexplained things that would be explained if the story would real. The complete differences between their worlds, the reason Voldemort was after him, why he, of all people, had dodged the effect of the Killing Curse. So while he wanted answers, he also didn't want that kind of weight on him. But he knew he couldn't have it both ways.

Dumbledore and Moody's heads were together. They were probably conversing on whether or not these people were a scam. Harry watched in anticipation. Dumbledore was a smart man. If he said that their story was a lie, Harry would follow after him. However, if Dumbledore _and_ Mad-eye Moody's mystical eye voted in favor of Nita and Kit, there was no denying the inevitable.

Dumbledore broke free from his huddle of two. As usual the aged face gave little to nothing away, but there was something in Dumbledore's voice that made his opinion known.

"Mr. Weasley mentioned to me that Miss Callahan and Mr. Rodriguez performed a spell which took them to the moon. It seemed to convince my students, for the time being, that they were telling the truth. Perhaps, if you were to demonstrate the height of your power, if it does indeed exceed our own, I might believe you." Harry caught the hint of excitement in Dumbledore's voice, and groaned inwardly. He was convinced. The old man wasn't asking for a trip to the moon because he needed more evidence, it was apparent that Dumbledore believed the story was truth. Which meant-- Harry really was--

"Certainly, Headmaster," Tom said, reaching out into open air and retrieving a book. Dumbledore and Lupin looked at this with the curiosity of a four year old and even the ever-doubtful Mad-Eye had anticipation in his one human eye.

"About how long will this take?" Dumbledore asked, standing up.

"20, maybe 30 minutes," Carl responded.

Dumbledore looked to Harry and Hermione and Ron, unable to hide the twinkle of zeal in his eyes, "If you wouldn't mind taking our guests around the Hogwarts' grounds while we're off on our little adventure,"

Harry _did_ mind. The only thing he wanted to do right now was curl up in his bed, and forget this ever happened. _Why_ did he go and meet Nita? Why didn't he listen to Hermione? One peek at Hermione told Harry that she wasn't regretting this at all. But Harry suspected that. She hadn't been just told that she was a reincarnation of a _god_. Harry wished he could simply choose not to believe it, but now there was no denying the inevitable. He stood up, briefly glancing at the remains of the food, and followed Ron and Hermione out of the door.

Two steps out of the door, and Hermione halted. "Wait!" she said as she rushed back into the private dining room. When she returned to their group she was holding in her hands her Manual. Harry thought back to what Tom had said earlier. The second condition for this Second Great War to happen: The birth of natural born wizards stuck in duality. Suddenly, Harry hated that book. But Hermione clutched it as though it meant everything.

Harry tried to not dislike the girl and the boy in front of him. He tried not to believe it was _their_ fault for barging into his life, and ruining everything. Because, he decided, it wasn't. His life had been mapped out since the First Great War, if what they said was true. It wasn't Nita or Kit's fault that he happened to be the unlucky sap who got saddled with the job of "Harboring the Bright One".

"I don't like this," Ron said, his brow furrowed. His eyebrows were turned down heavily, indicating just how frustrated he was. "I really don't like this." Ron peeked over to Harry to see his ideas about it, but as Harry had mixed feelings himself, Ron continued. Harry and Ron had double backed so that they were well behind Kit and Nita, but Ron still spoke in a harsh whisper. "They make it sound like what my family's been at for _centuries_ is..."

"Yeah," Harry said, flippantly, caught in his own thoughts about the matter.

"'Children of the Bright One'. Did you hear them? We're a 'lesser' magic. I mean, maybe we can't go to the moon, but that doesn't mean..."

"Hmm," grunted Harry.

"It's like, according to _them_, the wizarding community that has been around for ages is insignificant compared to their books, and their interplanetary travel, and their..."

Harry stopped trying to make it look like he was paying attention, not that Ron cared. Even without the occasional grunt, Ron continued ranting. He was still trying to wrap his mind around everything presented to him. He did snap back to the one-way conversation when Ron cried, "And _you!_" He said this actually kind of loudly causing Nita to glance back curiously. She was probably wondering why the two boys were hanging back.

"Apparently you've got some kind of mystical being living inside of you. I mean, I know you dodged You-Know-Who and all, but I'm not sure it was because you're God. Probably You-Know-Who tripped or something. Meant to murder you, but someone had spilled a drink, so he fell and his wand scratched you on your forehead,"

Harry gave a weak smile. He didn't think Ron actually believed the rubbish that was coming out of his mouth. He was, like Harry, just trying to give evidence that everything they knew _hadn't_ suddenly flipped on them.

"You don't believe us?" Nita asked.

She suddenly appeared in front of them, standing akimbo and glaring quite fiercely at Ron. Ron faced her the tips of his ears tinted red in anger.

"No, I don't!" he said, indignantly.

Kit and Hermione were watching them, Kit looking a bit annoyed too, and Hermione looking worried.

"I know it's hard to take," Kit said, stealing a glance at Hermione, "But now really isn't the time for disbelief."

"Harry doesn't believe you either!" Ron cried, looking at Harry, "Right, mate?"

Harry scrunched his face to try to think of a good reply, but it wasn't needed. Nita spoke before he could.

"We've been through this," she said, attempting to keep her calm, "Kit's right. You were ready to accept that Voldemort was back when Harry faced him last year-- yeah I read about that in your newspaper, _The Daily Prophet--_ why won't you accept_ this_ now?"

"Because I _know_ Harry," Ron interrupted, "_You're_ a complete stranger. You introduced yourself invisibly, and you come to our school with stories about gods fighting and the beginning of the world, and we're supposed to believe you?"

"It's the truth!" Nita said, obviously frustrated that Ron wasn't getting it. "What do we have to do to get you to believe it? Your headmaster believed us."

But Ron just kept shaking his head, furious at Nita and Kit, and Hermione too for going to their side. Harry knew what Ron was feeling, to a certain extent. With Harry, though, it was more like he didn't _want _to believe it, but he knew he would eventually have to face his fate. Ron was whole-heartedly set against it.

The group was so focused on Nita and Ron's ongoing argument that Hermione had to clear her throat several times before anyone bothered to look her way. When she had their eyes, she relayed her news. "I'm taking the Oath." It gained a gasp of betrayal from Ron, a quickly hidden smirk from Nita and an approving nod from Kit. Hermione held her headstrong. Her manual, which she'd before been clutching tightly, she now opened. She flipped it hurriedly, until she turned to the page in which the Oath was written. She opened her mouth, ready to recite.

"In Life's name and for Life's sake—" but Ron cut her off.

**Author's Note: I am a bad, bad author. A) I took so long to get this up. B) Half the people probably aren't in character anyway (although I tried hard, and re-read two of the books, I'm still not sure). C) I just found out that "Harborer" is not a word. The correct word for "one who harbors" is a "harbinger". :bangs head against computer desk:. I feel really stupid. Should I change it? Probably, but Harborer sounds much more fitting. So. I hope you are happy with this chapter. The next one should be up a lot quicker than this because... the summer holidays are here!! This is where you bring out the banner, and cue the fanfare. Anyways, thanks for reading. Review.**

**-lys phillips**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I know I said a week, and I had it done in 8 days, but my internet stopped working and my only connection to the world wide web came through other people's houses and the library. Sorry I couldn't get this to you sooner.**

**Chapter Eight**

"Wait!" Hermione called. She threw out her hand to get the group to stop, before rushing back into the private dining room. The five adult wizards were talking, giving out seemingly meaningless information like their favorite book. Hermione remembered her first trip by wizardry. She tried to imagine the British wizards' faces when they saw the Earth from the moon's point of view, and smiled in spite of her mixed feelings.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione reached the aged wizard, holding out her hands. "Could I—"

Dumbledore nodded, gesturing with his hand to the table on which sat Hermione's Manual. "Yes, I do believe I've kept it from you long enough."

Hermione nodded, trying not to jump up and down with excitement. It was time. There was no more debating about it, and the war in her head between Pro-Wizardry and Pro-Magic was over.

All day Hermione had been in a feud with herself. It was Sunday so there wasn't the distraction of classes. It was as though her conscious was split in half each part with its own ideas about what she should do. Pro-Wizardry scoffed at telling her it would be mad _not_ to take this opportunity. Imagine all of the things you could do, not only go to the moon, Hermione, but past this Solar System. Think of the all things you read in your Manual. Don't you want that?

Pro-Magic was her more cautious side, taking in all of the facts and not just focusing on the power. How much do you really know about these "wizards"? it questioned her. Their kind of magic has to come with a price that you didn't read about in the Manual. It's all too good to be true. And why _now_, it reasoned, when the Manual explained that most wizards get offered the Manual at around age 13? You're two years older than that.

Pro-Wizardry chose to ignore this, and instead reminded Hermione of the Oath. Because Dumbledore had Hermione's Manual, she couldn't look at it word for word, but a key phrase stuck out in her mind. It was the last sentence that explained pithily why wizards belonged in the universe. It was the last sentence that repeated itself constantly in her mind; partly because she couldn't remember much else, but mostly because the words struck a chord in her.

"I will put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to do so-- till Universe's end." Wasn't that what a Gryffindor was supposed to do? Pro-Wizardry and Pro-Magic abandoned Hermione to fight in their own squabble, leaving Hermione as a whole to figure this out. "I will put aside fear for courage…" Being a Gryffindor was about being brave, even when inside you were scared out of your wits. So wasn't it her duty as a Gryffindor to do this?

Hermione had wished there was something that would end this doubt. She'd wished that some truth would come forward that would help her decide, one way or the other, without any regrets what she should do. She thought about the meeting that night and hoped Nita and Kit's guardians would have that truth.

They did. As soon as Tom and Carl started in on the story _A Tale of Two Powers_, Hermione knew that this would lead her to a definite decision. And then Tom explained the three conditions for history to repeat itself.

"Three things had to happen before a Second Great War could occur. One: There had to be a natural wizard to do the Lone One's bidding. Two: the rapid birth of natural wizards who also possessed the Bright One's gift of magic. Three: A human must be born as the Harborer of the Bright One. Headmaster Dumbledore, it saddens me to say this but all three requirements have been met. Hermione Granger has been offered, from the Powers That Be, a Manual that will teach her the ways of a natural wizard. The natural wizard that complies with the Lone Power's commands is, as you call him, Lord Voldemort. And the Harborer of the Bright One is Harry Potter."

Now it wasn't just a choice that Hermione would make regarding her own self. Now it was a choice that would affect all of Great Britain, the _world_ even. "I will put aside fear for courage." And fighting in a war would be doing just that.

Hermione walked out of the dining room to see that the group was waiting for her. She sighed a heavy sigh, the kind that comes when you're about to do something life-altering. She was certain that she was going to go through with this; she _had_ to. But was one thing that worried her. Hermione noticed the group split in two with Ron and Harry griping about something in the back, and Nita and Kit walking ahead of them. With Nita and Kit leading it kind of defeated the purpose of Hermione, Harry and Ron showing them around, but Hermione liked that the groups were split like this. What she needed to talk about were things that she just couldn't discuss with Ron or Harry in the background.

She rushed forward, standing next to Nita. Nita and Kit turned to look at Hermione, trying to study her expression. Hermione looked back at them, and with a small smile –because she couldn't help but smile when thinking about it— she said, "I'm going to take the Oath."

Both natural wizards broke out in huge grins. "That's great!" Nita said encouragingly.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, "Only..."

Their smiles faltered just a bit at Hermione's reluctance. "No, no, I'm still going to go through with it," she reassured. Then, sighing, she said, "I just have a question. If I gain Wizardry… will I lose magic?"

There was silence as the two wizards pondered this. Hermione didn't like the silence because it meant one of two things. Either they realized she would lose her magic, and didn't know how to tell her; or they just didn't know. Somehow, them not knowing seemed worse.

Finally Kit turned to Hermione, shrugging. "My guess is that because your magic is a lesser form of wizardry, you would still be able to do both, but honestly I really don't know."

They were quiet again as they let Hermione take this in. "Because," Hermione continued, "if I DO lose my magic, that means I can't stay in the wizarding world. I'll have to give up all that I've grown accustomed to during the last 4 years, for something completely new. This means no Hogwarts, and the wizarding world doesn't let Muggles into their society, so I'll lose… everything."

Neither Nita nor Kit knew what to say to comfort their friend, or reassure her that everything was going to be fine. They were glad then when they heard Ron complaining behind them and could focus on that.

"Apparently you've got some kind of mystical being living inside of you. I mean, I know you dodged You-Know-Who and all, but I'm not sure it was because you're God. Probably You-Know-Who tripped or something. Meant to murder you, but someone had spilled a drink, so he fell and his wand scratched you on your forehead."

Nita turned around, happy for a distraction. "You don't believe us?" she accused. Hands on her hips, she glared at Ron.

"No, I don't!" Ron said indignantly.

"I know it's hard to take," Kit said looking at Hermione and thinking of her issue on the subject. He gave her a reassuring smile before continuing, "But now really isn't the time for disbelief."

"Harry doesn't believe you either!" Ron said. Fishing for back up, he looked to Harry. "Right, mate?"

Harry looked like he didn't know what to believe, but thankfully Nita saved him from answering.

"We've been through this," she said, attempting to keep her calm, "Kit's right. You were ready to accept that Voldemort was back when Harry faced him last year-- yeah I read about that in your newspaper, _The Daily Prophet--_ why won't you accept_ this_ now?"

"Because I _know_ Harry," Ron interrupted, "_You're_ a complete stranger. You introduced yourself invisibly, and you come to our school with stories about gods fighting and the beginning of the world, and we're supposed to believe you?"

"It's the truth!" Nita said, obviously frustrated that Ron wasn't getting it. "What do we have to do to get you to believe it? Your headmaster believed us."

Hermione saw the growing tension within the group. Nita was getting madder and madder at Ron, and Ron's disbelief was growing. She wondered if her decision would help Ron believe in them, but then he was extremely stubborn and it probably wouldn't make a difference. Still, she didn't like to see her old world and her new world collide on such rocky terms.

"I'm taking the Oath," Hermione said. Her words were drowned out by Nita and Ron's arguing, so she repeated herself. Ron gasped, looking as though Hermione had betrayed him. Nita tried to keep the smugness from her smile, and Kit nodded approvingly.

Hermione opened her Manual which she'd been clutching tightly, turning it over to the page the Oath was written. Taking a deep, shuddering breath Hermione began, "In Life's name and for Life's sake—" but Ron cut her off.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because," Hermione's answer meant to be calm, but her voice was shaking as she, like Harry and Ron, realized with full force what she was about to do. She cleared her throat so that only a small amount of nerves came through when she continued. "Because it will make you see that this is not a game, and they are telling the truth. There's a _war_—"

"So you're binding yourself to something unknown, JUST to convince me?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I'm taking the Oath because I believe them, and I want to help fight in this war. Do try to _understand_—"

Ron was quiet, and the people around him grew quiet too. They all waited for his reaction. "Fine," was all he gave them. Ron turned to Kit and Nita, "Fine, I believe you."

No one knew how to respond to that. It wasn't as though Ron had said it mockingly, more like he'd just given up. His tone was resigned. He wasn't going to push his point any further. Did he actually believe them, Hermione couldn't tell. His face didn't give anything away, except that he didn't like the situation he was in. Suddenly Hermione felt uncomfortable, and she knew that right now wouldn't be the best time to finish the Oath. So many things kept delaying her, but the look on Ron's face put her ill at ease. She closed the Manual softly, but Ron noticed it. He gave her a look that she couldn't read, so Hermione averted her eyes. They stood there for an awkward while until Harry broke the silence. "D'you reckon Dumbledore and the others are back now?"

"Probably," Kit said with relief. "We should head back," he added surveying the surrounding faces for damage.

Nita looked confused, as though she didn't know what to make of Ron. She looked to Hermione as though to ask about him, but Hermione shook her head.

They filed out, the air extremely thick. When they reached the private dining room, the adults were back. Surprisingly, the mood within the room wasn't as light as it had been after Hermione's trip. Instead they were discussing something seriously. Tom Swale, Dumbledore and Moody sat at the table, looking over Tom's Manual and papers he had spread out. Behind them, Lupin and Carl were talking animatedly. The fireplace to the right of them made the scene look especially severe, so that when the four young wizards and one witch walked into the room, they felt like they were intruding on some secretive meeting. Even more so when the adults looked up guardedly. Hermione realized the tone was heavy because they were talking war. The thought hadn't just occurred to her then, but she was reminded again that when she took the Oath, she would become a part of that war.

"Well, we should get going then." Tom said, picking up papers and placing them between pages in his Manual.

"I shall send you a letter by owl of the next meeting." Dumbledore shook hands with the men at the table and Carl and Lupin behind him.

Nita and Kit said good-bye to Hermione and Harry, throwing Ron mixed looks. Kit offered Ron a civil, "Bye", and Ron muttered it back to him darkly. Taking this as his signal to leave, Kit walked over to his seniors.

Before leaving Nita whispered towards Hermione, "Are you still going to go through with it?"

"Yes," Hermione said. She wouldn't let Ron's feelings stop her; she just wouldn't take it in front of him.

Nita smiled, despite the atmosphere. "Then I'll message you by Manual. Bye."

Hermione waved good-bye and watched the four natural wizards exit the room. Her heart fluttered with excitement as she realized that they'd use wizardry to leave Hogwarts, something regular magic wouldn't allow. Soon she'd be able to do that and so much more.

"I think that's enough excitement for one night," Dumbledore waved his hand in dismissal. "Mr. Weasley, you may go on ahead. I need to speak with Miss Granger and Mr. Potter for a moment." Hermione and Harry stepped forward, leaving Ron behind. Ron paused for a moment, before walking a bit hurriedly out the door. Hermione didn't have time to catch his look, but examining Ron's body language, he looked a bit… angry? Why had he been so angry at Nita and Kit? Why had he been so against the truth? Hermione shook her head, wondering if she would ever really understand Ronald Weasley, and turned back to her headmaster.

Ex-Professors Lupin and Moody said their good byes to Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione before filing out, so that now it was just the three of them.

"You two have been pulled into a situation much bigger than anything you've had to face before." Dumbledore turned his wise blue eyes to Harry. "Even you, Harry. In speaking with Tom Swale and Carl Romeo, I've discovered some of the most disturbing facts. This Second Great War is upon us, and you two are in the middle of it. "Hermione, you, at least, have a choice. And what is your decision?"

Hermione cleared her throat so that she sounded completely confident in her answer. And she did. She knew what her ultimate decision was. "I'm going to take the Oath, and become a natural wizard."

The headmaster smiled his approval at her plan. "I am glad." Then he turned to Harry. "I am sorry, Harry, and you do not know how the extent of how sorry I am. Of the dreadful things we talked about in our lunar adventure, your situation was the one that caused me the most grief. Your scar and your connection with Voldemort have plagued you all your life, and now you know the reason why. You are the Harborer of the Bright One. He sought to kill you prematurely, so that this war would never come about and Voldemort's master, the Lone Power, could finally take over Great Britain and turn it into the war colony he originally planned on. It did not work; the Bright One in you fought the Lone One in him. But now, my boy, you do not have the ignorance of being an infant. You will ultimately have to face him in this war, head on. Of course you will not go empty handed. You will have a great Power inside of you, and many wizards, natural and otherwise, behind you," Dumbledore paused here, looking into the air. He seemed to be thinking of something that troubled him greatly. He snapped from his reverie to finish speaking, although this time he was speaking to both of them.

"You both will fight in this war. Whether it was your choice, or whether your fate was sealed from the creation of the Earth, you will both fight in this war. I have no doubt that Mr. Weasley will follow you both in battle out of loyalty, and I trust that you will relay this to him as well. This is no game. We are fighting against the Creator of Death, and a man so wicked he won't hesitate to kill either one of you. You may think that because in our Land's past we have defeated the Lone Power, we will easily destroy Its army again. This is not so. The Lone One has learned Its lesson. It has been planning revenge on the Bright One for eons, and now It is using fire to fight fire. This war is Wizardry versus Wizardry, Magic versus Magic. There is no doubt that Lord Voldemort will have converted a few natural wizards to his cause, or forced them into it, and his Death Eaters are educated richly in the Dark Arts." Dumbledore gave both of his students time to think about his warning. When their faces turned back from horror stricken to normal, he continued a little more light-heartedly.

"I am not trying to scare you; I am trying to make you face facts. Miss Granger, does your decision remain the same?"

Hermione nodded. "I am a Gryffindor. I will set aside fear for courage." She couldn't help but add the last part, but reciting her favorite line of the Oath calmed her and with everything Professor Dumbledore was saying, she needed something to soothe her nerves.

Dumbledore said. Reacting to the tenseness of the moment, Professor Dumbledore had leaned in and lowered his voice. Now he straightened himself, and with a relatively normal voice he continued.

"You are as much a soldier in this war as I am; you deserve to sit in on the meetings. I shall somehow get the message to you when they are to be, and send instructions on how to get to our meeting place. During the next meeting we shall catch you up on all that we discussed on our trip to the moon." Dumbledore's heavy mood seemed to have disappeared quickly. He returned to his usual manner of speaking. There was a twinkle in his eye now as he recalled his adventure. "It was…"

Hermione couldn't help but grin as a man so affluent with words was rendered speechless by the experience.

"Indescribable," Harry offered.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, his mind still trapped in what had happened earlier that night. "Good night," he whispered softly.

"Good night, Sir," Harry and Hermione repeated together.

They exited the dining room in silence, and the atmosphere between them stayed silent up until they got to the common room. They turned to each other, standing just outside the portrait hole. What did they have to say to each other? What _could_ they say to each other? Hermione knew what she was feeling, being thrust into this new world, being handled the knowledge that a war was looming ahead. But that wouldn't be anything compared to what Harry was feeling.

"So…" Harry said, "Some night, eh?"

Hermione nodded her agreement. "Are you okay, Harry? I mean with being 'Harborer of the Bright One', and all?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't really have a choice, do I?" That hadn't been the reaction that Hermione was hoping for, but she expected it. Resignation was written all over Harry's face. Unlike Hermione, Harry had nothing to gain by being a part of this Second Great War. He had been thrust into the job of being savior of Great Britain when he was only a baby. Hermione was thinking up something to say that would cheer Harry up, or at least bring a hint of a smile to his face; but it was at that moment that the Gryffindors chose to return from their dinner. The mass of people climbing out of the portrait hole took them both by surprise. A light air came with the breezy conversation of those entering the common room, washing away most of the heavy mood set in by the events that night. But Hermione didn't forget about the last thing on her To Do List.

She let the undulating crowd of Gryffindor girls take her to her dormitory. She exited the wave when she reached her dorm room. Half of the girls went to their own dormitory, whereas the other half of them went to one particular room to gossip about meaningless things. At least, it was meaningless to Hermione. She had more important things on her mind than the latest gossip between Phillip and Stacey. Luckily the girls in her room were into that mindless dribble, and Hermione was left alone.

Finally. Finally. Hermione allowed herself to grin like mad as she put her Manual (and it really would be _her_ manual after tonight) on her bedside desk. For some reason she didn't rush while turning the pages. Her heart was pounding as though it was trapped, and her hands were shaking, but she didn't move hurriedly. Maybe it was because she knew that this would be her last minute as a "witch". After she turned this final page, and after she read the words displayed there she wouldn't be a "Mudblood" a "Muggleborn" or any of that. Hermione Jane Granger would be a "wizard".

There it was, the script so plainly typed but so full of magic. It meant so much more than just words. And as Hermione's eyes scanned the page, she could feel the heft of this moment. There was a moment of hesitance as she thought of her old life, but it was quickly pushed aside. Hermione opened her mouth, and began to recite the Wizard's Oath.

"In Life's name and for Life's sake, I say that I will use the Art for nothing but the service of that Life. I will guard growth and ease pain. I will fight to preserve what grows and lives well in its own way; and I will change no object or creature unless its growth and life, or that of the system of which it is part are threatened. To these ends, in the practice of my Art, I will put aside fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to go so— till Universe's end."

Hermione closed her eyes, soaking in the true meaning of these words.

Now, Hermione Granger was a wizard.

**I won't make any promises about the next chapter, because I don't know when my internet will be back up. Darn.**

**-lys phillips**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I'm not happy with this chapter, and will probably making many revisions after posting. And even though I believe that one shouldn't post what they have until they're completely sure of it, I've kept this for about a month and a half, and I don't believe in holding out for that long either.**

Harry needed air. He made sure to wake himself up early, rising even before the sun. Checking his watch, he saw with satisfaction that he would have a good two hours or so before breakfast. He reached under his bed and softly slid both his broomstick case and his Invisibility Cloak out.

At least this won't change, Harry thought to himself. He placed his Firebolt and Cloak on his bed and got dressed. The weekend was over so he donned his school robes. He'd shower when he got back, no sense in chancing the awakening of his roommates with lights or the sound of running water. No, Harry really needed to be alone right then.

Surreptitiously, he opened his window. Because the Gryffindor Tower seemed light years from the ground, Harry had to be precise in all of his movements or… well it wouldn't be pretty. The danger actually suited Harry's mood. What Quidditch player didn't like the racing of his heart as he maneuvered in and out of the most daring of situations?

Harry surveyed the room, listening for a few seconds to the rise and falls of his roommates' breath. Certain he hadn't awoken anyone, he placed his broom directly outside the window, and whispered the incantation for a Hovering Charm. Hoping is Hovering Charm proved strong enough, Harry followed his broomstick out the window. And then he leaned forward, giving the initial movement for the broomstick to begin flying.

He was on. Harry mentally pumped his fist at his success. He gripped his broomstick handle, and for once noticed how sweaty his palms were. Thinking about the sweat made him think about what caused these feelings of ill ease. He furrowed his brow in frustration and shook his head to get rid of his thoughts. He'd gone on this Sunrise Flight to do just that, stop his mind from thinking about all the things that had happened in the past two days.

It had taken just two days and everything Harry had known --about the wizarding world, about himself-- had taken a drastic change. For better or for worse, Harry couldn't discern. Because now, after four years of confronting and dodging Lord Voldemort, he would have to face him for a final time, in the deciding battle of this Second Great War.

But, not to worry Harry, you have an advantage that no one else does. There's a Power living inside of you.

A _Power_. He didn't even know what that was. He'd heard of God. The Dursleys often attended church, if only to keep up appearances, and there he learned about God who'd created the heavens and the earth, and done all of these amazing things. He had something like that living inside of him?

Harry's thoughts were referred back to the story that Tom had told. _A Tale of Two Powers_. "It started at the beginning of the universe..." So apparently whatever had decided to take host inside of him had created the universe-- or, helped, anyway. This being was so powerful: it had helped form_ Earth_, and it was living in his fifteen year old body. And because this Power was nice enough to choose him as a host --"host", it made the Power sound like a fungus-- he had to face Lord Voldemort. And the Power that had invented Death.

Maybe they had the wrong guy. But even as Harry thought it, he realizing it was a pathetic excuse for a way out. How else could he have escaped the Killing Curse at fifteen months? How else could he have escaped from Voldemort three times, if not for this magical being? But surely, if there was an immortal taking refuge in his body, surely he would've felt it at some time in his fifteen years?

Harry came to a halt. He was hovering pretty close to the Forbidden Forest, but that wasn't why he stopped. Harry felt a bit silly when he closed his eyes, but he had to get this right. The feeling of foolishness returned when Harry murmured softly aloud "_Erm... Hello? Are you there?"_

Had he been expecting an answer, he would not have been quite so shocked when a voice inside of him muttered greetings back.

_Hello, Harry_.

But because he hadn't been expecting anything, he fell back in surprise, steadying himself at the last minute, so that all that happened was the Firebolt rocked a little uneasily.

He tried to make sense of what he heard. The reoccurring option was that he was going completely crazy and needed to be shipped off to St. Mungo's immediately, diagnosed with some kind of disease where a symptom was that he heard strange voices in his head.

_I'm hardly a voice in your head, Harry. You and I both know the truth, don't you think you should admit it to yourself?_

Harry did know the truth. He just liked the option of being hospitalized better.

_You would. I am sorry, Harry, you're too young to be burdened with such heaviness like a War._

Right. So now the voice in his head was... _apologizing_ to him. Harry struggled to pull himself together, but any sanity he may have had before, left him now. Harry secured his grip on the broomstick as though it was also his grip on reality. The tighter the hold on his handle, the less insane he'd become. Right? Harry didn't know what to say next. This was just too... Why had it never spoken up before?

_I was never strong enough. Furthermore, if you were a child and you started muttering to yourself, fancying something talking _back_, don't you think the Dursleys would've sent you to an asylum?_

But it was perfectly normal now that he was almost of age?

_Not normal, no. But then, you're Harry Potter, you've never been normal. I've been here from birth, awaiting the time when I would be called upon to vanquish my brother. _

Her brother... the Lone Power.

_Right. Are you going to help me with this, or are you going to hover in denial until we reach the inevitable, the crux in our battle?_

He had no choice. Not since Day One had anyone asked him if he wanted to harbor the Bright One; the responsibility had been thrust upon him. The Power was right, it really wasn't a choice of if he was going to go through with it, but rather when he was going to admit to himself that it was happening.

_I can't ever escaped this,_ Harry didn't mean to send this revelation to the Bright One, but She received it and answered.

_You cannot, no matter how fast you fly._

* * *

Hermione woke to darkness and anticipation. When she opened her eyes and recalled the events of the night before, her stomach lurched with opportunity. She sat up, wondering how she could have possibly slept with all that had weighted on her mind. With thousands upon millions of spells at her disposal, she would've expected to turn in much later than when the lights officially turned off. Yet there she sat in her bed, well rested with the sun a sliver of red on the horizon.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, squinting as her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of very early morning. For now all she could see were dark gray and black figures, and she knew that if she looked to the clock to check the time, she would see the same. She reached out to her bedside table and grabbed her wand.

_"Lumos mitigate,"_ she whispered. The wand ignited.

Suddenly, it dawned on her what she'd done. Magic. Hermione grinned in relief, staring at her wand light with affection and gratitude, thanking it for lighting, as though it were the force that allowed her to keep her magic. for her the uncertainty had been a driving force in this decision; not knowing if she had to exchange her old world for this new one.

And with the heartening realization of knowing she had her old powers, came another realization. Of her _new _powers. Wizardry.

Last night, Hermione had been too overwhelmed by previous events and declarations of War to do a trial run with any of the Manual's spells. Now, she was quick to wipe her eyes free from leftovers of sleep. Using her wand light to guide her, Hermione reached under her bed. She felt around for the Manual, and her fingers clasped tightly around its binding. Even with the jumble of books she kept under there, Hermione knew this feel apart from the rest. Was it her imagination, or was the Manual buzzing with excitement too? She pulled the book up, and placed it on her lap.

To Hermione, this spell book seemed to be even more magical than the books in the Hogwarts' library that were bewitched to speak to you or act like animals. The Manual _looked_ like a used library book, but oh the doors it would open for her, introducing her to things her subconscious had never once daydreamed. The Manual was magical because it peeled away the layers of the universe, revealing all things hidden, things that she would never had thought to look for. Hermione never would have begun a conversation with a tree. The closest she'd ever come to that were the talking trees in animated Disney movies when she was little. But she quickly denounced those movies in favor of something real. Now "talking trees" was just another layer of the universe, hidden before, now divulged to her because she was a wizard.

For a moment her mind brushed the reason she'd been given the gift of wizardry, and her smile faltered. She quickly pushed the though from her mind; she did not want to taint this moment with ill feeling. No, this moment deserved her full attention. This moment: her first Wizardry.

With out hand, Hermione tucked a strand of her wildly twisting hair behind her ear. With the other she began feverishly flipping pages, searching for the spell she needed. She held her wand up to the pages as her eyes speed-read each heading. Finally she landed on the page.

She'd searched for this spell, because it was short and simple, and because, right now it made sense.

Hermione took in one sharp breath. Her wand lay on the page, illuminating the words she would have to speak. She actually did not want to be anywhere near her wand. She wanted to be sure --completely sure-- that this spell worked because of her. Because of _her_ power. Her wizardry.

The Manual lay innocently in her lap, waiting to fulfull its purpose. Hermione didn't know what to do with her hands. She wondered if hands were of importance in doing spells with wizardry, but then decided they weren't. She only wanted to keep her hands from flailing about uselessly, so she sat on them.

Before this, her only contact with the Speech had been through reading. These foreign, yet familiar, words had only been uttered in her mind. After being lectured throughout the book about the power of this ancient language, she heeded the warnings and hadn't so much as murmured a pronoun in the Speech. Hermione still feared the power; she knew the consequences of her mistakes if she made them, but now she found the courage to whisper the first word.

She began softly, though even in whispers the Speech was compelling. The first word seemed to leap out of her mouth, the second and third diving happily after it.

Hermione was drowning, but she was going under in such a way that she was not ready to swim back to the surface. Rather than water, what surrounded her was song. The Speech somehow had a musical quality to it, no matter how statically Hermione stated the words. She felt, and this was the weirdest part, that her corner of the universe was singing along. She belonged to a chorus that consisted of the air, the wind, and even the soft dawn.

The spell was short so this feeling did not last long, but as this feeling left it was replaced with another. Accomplishment. It worked. Somehow the slight feeling of being out of breath made it seem that much more real. It had been her power that caused the spell to work; she felt it being taken from her. Hermione put her hand to her chest, as though that was where her power had been extracted from. Hermione's thoughts soon strayed from this, when she spotted the result of her spell.

Floating above tha Manual, shining with power, was a small cube of pulsing light. Hermione released her hands from her bottom and tried to touch the floating ball, but it bobbed out of her way. Probably for the best. She'd read the translation for the spell in the speech and now that she thought about it, touching it probably wasn't safe.

On her lap sat the Manual, and on the Manual, giving off light she no longer needed, lay her wand. Hovering just above these two objects, a light made be wizardry proudly shone. Hermione felt like this scene fit her perfectly. She gazed at this connection of two worlds with a deepening sense of pride. A dark reason lay behind this connection; nevertheless, Hermione felt important being part of the transition. After staring in pleasure at what she'd created, Hermione diminished her wand light. She then used her Wizard's light to accompany her as she flipped through the pages of her Manual, until the sun replaced the magical light and her first roommate woke up.

GRANGER, Hermione J.

assignment status: In Ordeal.

* * *

Nita grinned and couldn't help but whoop aloud. "NOW we're getting somewhere," she announced to herself. Because her room was labeled as the Girls' room, she was alone in her celebration. But that could not diminish the awesome feeling she got in the pit of her stomach. She felt a burning satisfaction. _This is the beginning of an army_, she thought to herself as she climbed out of bed.

Hermione's status message had been the first thing she saw when she awoke. She wondered if her Manual had been buzzing all night, and she had just been too conked out to notice. Deciding that it didn't matter, Nita had excitedly opened her Manual to the wizard listings. There she saw Hermione's name, and the good feeling washed over her.

Nita headed over to the closet. On the bars hung her normal clothes, and then two witch's robes. Briefly, she wondered how many heads would turn if she walked down to breakfast with that on. As amusing as the scene was in her head, Nita chose an olive-green long sleeved shirt and jeans instead. Grabbing her manual from her bedside desk, she headed out the door.

A nice thing about the hotel was the complimentary breakfast it offered to its guests. Having read about the choices in the brochure, Nita made her way over to the bagel and fruit selections.

It was that time of morning where early birds were leaving, the late slugs were arriving and those who found comfort in waking at 8 were happily munching on their breakfast. Almost every table was filled. Because this was a hotel for foreign visitors, Nita heard an array of accents as she walked toward the breakfast counter. A particular large family was having trouble calming down their feuding youngest in Swedish. Two businessmen, already in their selling suits, discussed a good deal in Swahili. Trained in the Speech, Nita understood snippets of their conversation. Yet as interested as Nita was in language, today she focused not on Swedish or Swahili, but on the most awesome of events that had occurred this morning.

Nita felt so good while slathering her bagel in cream cheese, that she did an impromptu dance. Even if she did look stupid because her dance moves were limited to the Macarena, Nita felt like it was necessary. When finished with her plate, she scanned the hotel eating place until she spotted the occupants of the Boys' room sitting on stools at the other side. Tom turned the pages of a newspaper, huddling over it in a way that made it look like he was hiding something. The _Daily Prophet_, Nita concluded. He would have to hide the moving pictures from the view of the "Muggles" in the room. Carl was gulping down a mug of coffee, and Nita presumed that the small plate of grapes was for him too. Kit poured milk into his bowl of cereal, often turning his head to look over at his Seniors.

Nita walked over and sat at the stool next to him, eager to tell Kit the good news. Her partner gave her a small nod hello before turning back, intrigued by whatever Tom was reading. Nita turned too.

Tom swore. Carl looked over his shoulder and frowned at the headline. His look of frustration only deepened as he read on in the article.

"What?" Nita asked, curious and suddenly worried.

"Fudge," Tom spoke the name the way a debutante might utter the word 'mucus'; with much distaste.

"What's he done?" Kit asked, fearing for the worst.

Tom angrily thrust the paper to Kit whose eyes widened. He would've sworn too had his Seniors not been giving daily reports to his Mama. Nita wanted to see what the Minister of Magic had done that was so sinister. Kit leaned the paper over to Nita's side, and her eyes were soon snagged by the headline.

"Oh," was her reaction, "That's not good."

"No, it's not," Carl responded. "I can't believe we didn't realize how that information could be used," he added with an expression that gave Nita the feeling that inside he was kicking himself.

"I didn't think he read that far," Tom said, his fists balled, "Of course my manual has the updated version, with notes about Tom Riddle scribbled in the margins. It's such a stupid mistake. Darnnit."

Nita and Kit finished with the article. Kit's mouth was open; he didn't know what to say.

"Two steps forward, three steps back," Nita muttered.

"What?" Kit asked, but she ignored him. How were they supposed to build an army when the Minister of Magic did something like this?

"D'you think Dumbledore will believe this garbage?" Kit asked, throwing his Seniors a worried look.

Tom looked off into the distance. "We'll find out,"

Carl followed his gaze and Kit and Nita soon after. Outside of their hotel room a tawny barn owl was flying towards the window, something dangling from its claws. Trailing behind it was a purely white owl that Nita recognized as Harry's. Tom stood there two seconds before reacting. Gathering his breakfast and his newspaper first, he hurried to his room as fast as he could without arousing suspicion. Nita saw the brilliance of this move when the barn owl swerved upward to follow him.

The snowy owl still flew toward the window. Carl nudged Kit and Nita. It's for you," he said, "Get upstairs." They nodded.

As they retreated from the eating room, Harry's owl made a sharp turn upward. When they arrived at the Boys' room, it was perched at Tom's window next to the barn owl. At Tom's desk, a few feet away from the birds, Tom scribbled furiously on paper. When Harry's owl spotted Nita and Kit, its wings outstretched and it flew toward them. Nita held out her hands, and the owl dropped two folded pieces of paper on them.

"What's it say?" Kit asked.

Nita didn't know if Kit was speaking with her or Tom. Figuring that Tom was not going to explain the contents of his letter to them, Nita opened hers. She was aware that the snowy owl still hovered in front of her. She tried not to let that distract her as she read her letter aloud.

"_Nita and Kit—_

_I took the Oath, and now I can say with pride that I am a wizard. I've accepted the burden that goes with wizardry, and I'm ready to fight in the war. I'm willing. –Hermione P.S. Being a wizard is amazing."_ Nita peeked from behind the paper to catch Kit's weak grin. "Well that's one good thing," he said, glancing at Tom. Tom had finished writing his letter and the barn owl was flying away from the window. Now he sat at the desk, rubbing his temples.

Kit turned back to Nita and nudge her to read the next one.

"_Nita and Kit—_

_Today the Bright One talked to me. Is that normal? –Harry."_

"Ronan," Nita thought, something clicking in her mind. Before she could explain her burst of genius to Kit, Tom stood from his desk. He turned around to the young wizards. "We've an emergency meeting tonight. This is a setback, but hopefully one that we can correct. We can only hope that Dumbledore's influence is stronger than Cornelius Fudge's words."

Kit asked the question Nita dared not even _think._ "And if it isn't?"

Tom looked darkly from Kit to Nita. He didn't answer; he didn't have to. His look said it all.

"So you're a god now? Figures." Ron laughed with little humor. He hadn't looked at Harry when he said it; instead he busied himself with gathering his books for the day's classes. But Harry knew, even without studying Ron's face, that what Ron said was supposed to hurt.

"Figures?" Harry asked. After his pre-morning ride, Harry'd climbed back into bed hoping to give off the pretense that he'd been sleeping all the while. He'd rolled to the side so that he faced the wall and waited to tell Ron what had happened. Now, he realized that Ron wasn't in the mood to hear about the chat Harry had with the voice in his head.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're Harry-flipping-Potter, aren't you?" Ron finished packing. He hoisted his bag onto his body. For the first time that morning he turned to look at Harry. Harry's eyebrows shot up with surprise at the dark look Ron wore. He looked at him as though Ron hated him. But Harry hadn't done anything. It had been maybe eight hours since they'd last spoken to each other. How could Ron have developed a grudge in his sleep?

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.

"Oh, so terribly sorry, you must think I'm rude," Ron mocked, "Would you like me to bow in your presence now? I suppose I should give you an offering, then, as you're now a _god_."

"What is wrong with you?" Harry asked incredulously. He was starting to get annoyed with Ron's attitude. Ron was speaking as though Harry had betrayed him. Betrayed him by doing what? Housing some weird, ether-real being, something that Harry hadn't even known was there until the last night? Harry hadn't done anything, and he concluded that Ron was being an idiot.

"So I guess what everyone's been thinking for years is true. I'm really not worthy to be friends with the Great Harry Potter." Ron gave a sardonic bow, and then with all the sarcasm he could muster, said, "See you at breakfast, Oh Great Deity."

Hermione's eyes flickered from an irritated Ron to an equally irritated Harry. Both wizards swish and flicked their wands in annoyance; Hermione wondered what had happened between them.

Upon entering the Great Hall during breakfast, she'd expected for Ron to give her the silent, I'm-Angry-With-You treatment, but instead he greeted her with a small grunt. This meant he was peeved about something, but not entirely with her. Harry came down a few minutes later, and Hermione found the target of his anger. When Harry plopped down next to Hermione, he glared darkly at Ron. Ron didn't look Harry's way the entire time; instead he slathered jam on his toast with a dark enthusiasm. When Hermione asked if Ron was going to leave any jam for anyone else, he'd given her a fierce glare, one almost as deadly as the one Harry was giving him, and continued to decorate his toast. Hermione was so confused by this that she didn't bother to read the Daily Prophet that was delivered. She tucked it into her bag for later.

Breakfast ended, and they headed off to Transfiguration. As rare as it was, Hermione was in the middle of the two boys. Suddenly, she realized that Harry's position in the middle was not fun. She had to deal with Ron's pointed ignoring, and also with Harry's pointed glaring. When in Transfiguration Ron had grabbed Neville by the arm leading him to the table next to Ron, Harry and Hermione's usual. Harry, infuriated by this, plopped down at their usual table, but at the seat farthest away from Ron and Neville. Hermione sat next to Harry, sighing in exasperation where she inquired:

"What's wrong with Ron?"

The reason Hermione didn't ask, "What's wrong with the two of you" was because she knew Harry would immediately deny anything being wrong with him, and insist that everything was wrong with that red-haired prat. While, if Hermione asked what was wrong with Ron, she'd get an actual tale of what had happened, rather than a list of why everything was Ron's fault.

Harry sent a glare Ron's way before turning to Hermione to answer her. "He _bowed_ to me. Exactly!" Harry added, responding to Hermione's quizzical look. "Though it was with sarcasm, so I don't think he's been possessed. He was mocking the fact that--" Harry's eyes swept the room, checking if any ears were listening in before continuing, "I harbor a 'Power'. His last words were: 'See you at breakfast, Oh Great Deity'."

Hermione knew that Harry was expecting some kind of incredulous response. ("No _way_! No, he didn't!"), but instead she sat thinking. Yesterday Ron had been unresponsive, passive. Today he blatantly ignored Harry.

She was about to comment on that, when Professor McGonagall walked in. Her powerfully brisk walk seemed disturbed this morning. When she passed Harry and Hermione's table to get to her desk, she dropped a note to them. Hermione grabbed the note before anyone could see it and question about it. Professor McGonagall stood behind her desk, erect, surveying the students, her gaze lingering longer on Hermione and Harry.

Hermione hid the note behind her table, placing it in her lap. Harry looked to the note, interested, but he still had more to say about the Ron situation.

His tone changed from harshly accusatory to only slightly. "He also said that he guessed what everyone was saying was true. That he wasn't worthy of being my friend." Harry looked over at Ron. "He's an idiot."

Harry shook his head to clear all thoughts of Ron from his head, or at least for that period. Now he turned an inquisitive stare to the note nestled in Hermione's lap. "What's it say?" he whispered. But Hermione hadn't opened it yet. On the outside of it was hers Ron and Harry's name in Professor Dumbledore's tiny cursive. This must be news about the War. She hastened to unfold it and read the tiny writing.

_"I trust you've read the Daily Prophet? We'll be discussing the article on page four at a meeting tonight. We will also be discussing your training."_

"Training?" Harry asked. Professor McGonagall cut them off from talking about the note. She tapped her desk with her wand, calling to attention her Fifth Year class.

"Today we'll be learning the spell to transfigure a piece of parchment into a quill, and vise versa." she instructed, waving her wand hand. On each table appeared a quill and a piece of parchment. "The incantation: _Logatius!."_


	10. Chapter 10

****

Author's Note: Yes, a two chapter update, mostly as apology for having it be a month and a half since last I posted, and also because these two chapters are in truth just a really long Chapter Nine.

Chapter Ten

_"Logatius!"_ Neville waved his wand. His movements gave into the obvious frustration on his face; he flicked and swished so hard that his wand flew out of his hand. Even if his wand hadn't flown out of his hand, he wouldn't have gotten the spell right. Ron tried to keep from snickering. Was it wrong that he was enjoying Neville's stupidity? Probably, but he couldn't help but feel... _better_ around Neville.

It was better than being around Harry anyway. Or Hermione. Ron clenched his fingers tightly around his wand, but then released his hold a slight. He wasn't about to make Neville's mistake and get frustrated. Even if he was treated as the stupid sidekick, he didn't have to perform like one. Ron snuck a look at Harry and Hermione, to see how they were doing with the spell. As usual, Hermione had taken to the spell and mastered it quickly. Now she was toying with her parchment, transfiguring it from a quill and back in a distracted way. Harry was flicking his wand, and scratching his head wondering why it wasn't working. Hermione stopped Harry from flicking the wand in her face, and then began showing him how to do it the proper way.

Ha! Ron would show them. He'd do it without Hermione's help, and without making a fool of himself as was Neville's approach.

"No," Ron said once Neville had retrieved his wand. "Like this: _Logatius!"_ Neville watched, in a bit of annoyance as Ron pronounced the spell, and flicked his wand properly. Both pairs of eyes were on the parchment... as it turned into a quill.

"Yes!" Ron said, unable to help his fist from pumping into the air. "_That's _how you do it!" Ron said, extremely proud of his work. He snuck a look at Harry and Hermione and they both were looking his way. His outburst _had_ been pretty loud. But he was proud of himself. Perhaps it had just been a small spell, hardly worth anything in the long run of life, but it meant something to run. He hated being upstaged by Harry, and he hated having to lean on Hermione for everything. And then this whole ordeal with a war, and Harry and Hermione being the front-runners in it...

He'd already been annoyed when Nita and Kit talked about magic as though it was little to nothing compared to wizardry. And maybe it wasn't. Maybe wizardry was a heck of a lot more powerful... but that didn't make Ron feel any better. And then there was the even bigger revelation that Harry was some kind of God. And Hermione now belonged to that elite branch of magic. Now he was further away from them as ever. Maybe he was a pureblood, but if you weren't freaking Slytherin, what did that matter?

In this Second Great War Harry had the power of a god, Hermione had the power of seven great wizards with that book of hers, and what did Ron have? Nothing. Which is why he had to prove himself. He had to prove himself worthy without Hermione or Harry to carry his load. Maybe he didn't have that mystical Manual, or the help of a great mystical being, but he did have a wand. Using that wand he'd be one of the best soldiers of this Great War. A soldier who knocked down his enemies with a soft flick of his wrist. A soldier who let no one's upper hand keep him from battling it out. A soldier who left only bodies and pleas of surrender in his wake. That was the kind of soldier Ronald Weasley wanted to be, even if it began with a simple transfiguration spell.

* * *

"Come with me," Hermione ordered, intercepting Ron and Neville after Potions. She offered a greeting to Neville by a brief nod, but then she zeroed in on Ron. She grabbed his arm before he could object, and started tugging him away, in what he noticed was the opposite direction of the Great Hall.

"Wha--?" Ron asked, thoroughly confused. "But it's lunch time!"

"There's a meeting tonight," Hermione said. Her voice had lowered, but it lost none of its commanding attitude. Ron tried to contain a grin at the thought of the war. He strengthened his grip on his wand, imagining himself taking down several bad guys with his cunning expertise and fierce handle on magic. He was interrupted from his fantasies as Hermione explained. "It's about an article in the _Prophet, _I told Harry to go on ahead to the library, and that I would wait for you."

Hermione looked at him with her usual analyzing look. He turned away, not wanting her to try and "figure him out". Instead, he yanked his arm from her hold and hurried ahead of her.

"Look, Ron--"

His eyes narrowed. She couldn't leave him alone? He'd just started feeling okay about everything. He wasn't going to be Harry's lackey. Of course, his potion hadn't turned out as well as he'd hoped. Instead of the vibrant, bright green color his potion was supposed to take, it turned a kind of puke-y yellow. But when tested on the lab rat, the rodent hadn't died, and to Ron that was a definite plus. Hermione was not going to ruin his small sense of euphoria by reminding him of why he'd been so ticked that morning.

"I don't know where you heard that you weren't good enough to be Harry's friend--"

"Drop it," he ordered. Where had he heard it? Everywhere. But he didn't feel like spilling words of self-pity to Hermione especially as she would see everything from logic's side.

"--but you ARE. It doesn't matter about his _situation_. He doesn't like it any more than you do. In all honesty, you're being a tad ridiculous--"

"_Am _I?" Ron tried to make his sarcasm as obvious as possible, but either Hermione was now immune, or she just didn't notice it, because she continued.

"Yes. It's not Harry's fault. He didn't have a choice in the matter, and besides this rocky ground for him, he needs a friend, not someone to mock him--"

"Well then, tell His Majesty that I apologize." Ron halted in step, having reached the library's large doors. Hermione grunted in frustration, and charged past Ron and into the library. Ron rolled his eyes, and went in after her. He surveyed the room, capacious in books, but not with students as the bulk of them were at lunch. Ron thought longingly of the feast awaiting him in the Great Hall, but then shook it off. He could put off lunch for today. He'd make up for it by eating dinner. He looked around the library, watching for the only two students not at lunch.

Hermione and Harry sat at a table obscure from direct view by towering book shelves. Ron made his way over to them, ignoring Harry's irritation and Hermione's raised eyebrows, he received as they looked up. When he sat, it was half a chair away from Hermione. Detached enough for Hermione to get the message that he was annoyed with her, but attached so that he could clearly hear what they were saying and even add input.

Hermione sighed, and threw Ron an exasperated glance that screamed, "You're being ridiculous", before leaning to her side, opening her bag, and retrieving the daily newspaper. She stretched it out on the table. Harry leaned in, and Ron couldn't help but turn around, his curiosity got the better of him.

Hermione silently read the headline to herself, before starting to read the article aloud.

"_A Tale of Two Powers' BANNED_," Then Hermione stopped reading aloud altogether figuring it was faster to just read it to herself first and then give a synopsis to Harry and Ron. She was probably right, although Ron grew impatient watching Hermione's expression flick from shock and annoyance through the course of the article. Finally Hermione placed the Prophet on the table looking back and forth between the boys.

"Basically, Fudge has banned all Manuals which take the form of the book a Tale of Two Powers when shown to a person not a natural wizard," Hermione dictated.

"Why?"

"Tom Swale, Nita and Kit's guardian, went to see Fudge, asking for the Ministry's help in conveying the news of the upcoming war. I'm sure that's what they mean when they say 'Confronted by one of the madmen and accosted into spreading the news of the evil'. Sometime during that meeting it was revealed to Fudge that You-Know-Who was a dual wizard too. Now, my guess is that the Minister grew scared, as he usually does when confronted with evidence that You-Know-Who might be back. Then he saw a connection with Swale and You-Know-Who –they both had a different type of magic given by these Powers—he exploited that, and now Tom Swale, and anyone else who owns the book is believed to be You-Know-Who's accomplice. To avoid being seen as a Death Eater, it's required that you give up the book for the Ministry to burn." Hermione ended her summary with an annoyed stare at the paper, specifically at the article and the minister's picture. In the picture Cornelius Fudge carried an official Magical Decree, signed and stamped by all the right people.

"Fudge is an idiot," Harry commented.

"Yes, I thought so too," Hermione said. They both looked to Ron who was bright red. There was no need to tell them that the very theory that they might be Death Eaters had run through Ron's mind too. No, he'd just keep that to himself.

"Er, yeah, I agree," he said instead.

"So how bad is this?" Harry asked looking from the article, to Ron, and then settling on Hermione.

"Well, we need duality wizards for the war; I can't be the only one. Plus there's the fact that I'm carrying around a banned book." Hermione rolled her eyes to explain how absurd she thought this whole thing was.

"Such a rebel, Hermione," Harry teased.

"_Right."_ Hermione said in disbelief, "Anyway, I guess we'll see at the meeting."

* * *

"Headmaster."

"Mr. Swale, Mr. Romeo."

Their greetings were quick and concise. There were other things on the men's minds, both of them having read the article that caused this sudden meeting. Everyone took their seats looking different levels of uncomfortable, curious and scared.

"Has everyone here read the article?" Tom asked looking like he really wanted to skip the beginning and dive straight into what was wrong and how they could fix it. Although his body was relatively still, the way his eyes darted anxiously from person to person gave away how he really felt. He wasn't alone.

Harry and Ron had just been given a synopsis from Hermione and had the minimum knowledge about it. Neither spoke up not wanting to delay the core point of this meeting even further.

"Good." Tom looked toward Dumbledore, now addressing him more than anyone else. "You see why this is a problem, Headmaster. Fudge is your _Minister_; surely people are going to believe him over a questionable stranger from the U.S. Especially the note, right after it."

A note? Hermione hadn't seen a note. Although she'd scoured the article again and again, she hadn't seen a mention of the note

Tom saw the mixed looks of comprehension and with a forced patience, brought out his clipping of the Daily Prophet. He scanned the page and then read aloud the note. "_Any child who has in his possession the book _A Tale of Two Powers_ has two options. 1. They will serve the Dark Lord. 2. They, and their families, will die. –A Message from a Servant of the Dark Lord,"_

Hermione's heartbeat pounded in her ears, dulling the noises of the meeting room. Voldemort, that note was from Voldemort. She knew without Tom having to explain it. It was placed on the page opposite the article so as to imply that Tom and Carl had written the note, but she knew that every menacious word was written by a Death Eater. Suddenly she wasn't thinking of her wizardry as a gift. It seemed more like a curse. If she didn't work on the Dark side, Voldemort promised to slay her and her parents. Ron sent her a look, one that was surprisingly not hate. No matter how much Ron wanted to trade in his wand for a Manual, he wasn't jealous of her situation. Harry scooted closer to her and gave her a pitying look. Funny as Hermione was usually sending that look to him.

"Rest assured, Miss Granger, that while you are at Hogwarts, you are the safest you could be." Dumbledore added, reading Hermione's look of horror.

"Yes, but at the risk of sounding insensitive, her family's not. And that's what is going to cause potential duality wizards to look at the Manual as a curse, and immediately throw it away. There goes power. There goes an army." Hermione shuffled around in her chair. It was as though Mr. Romeo had read her mind. But only partly. Yes she'd thought of the Manual as a curse, but that didn't mean she was about to back out.

Tom turned to her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. You didn't get to know this particular risk before you signed on. What with our potential army diminishing as we speak, you're an invaluable necessity for us right now, but wizardry does not live in the unwilling heart."

Tom didn't have to say it aloud, but Hermione understood what he was offering by his last sentence. The prospect was open to her, if she chose to back out. But no. Hermione was in it for good. She would fight in this war. "I'm here." was all she said. Tom gave her a sad, thankful smile before turning back to Dumbledore.

"This is very bad." he commented. Understatement, yes.

"It is not as though we do not have people who will oppose Voldemort." Dumbledore said. "It is true that most of the wizarding world chooses to believe Fudge's fancy that everything is right in the world, and that families disappearing is from some kind of common pox. There is, however, an organization of strong men and women who know better than to believe that these deaths are coincidences. The Order of the Phoenix was around when Voldemort was first at power, and we fought against the Dark Side. We will have no qualms in fighting against it this time around either. Alastor Moody, whom you met at the last meeting, is a retired Auror who is very faithful to the Order. Remus Lupin, here, is also. And we have about a dozen more. I am sure that they will be a match against the Death Eaters."

Tom nodded, impatience showing through the quick gesture. "I have no doubts that the Order of the Phoenix will leave a large dent in the Lone One's army, but unfortunately we still need the power of duality wizardry."

"Why?"

Heads swiveled to the direction of the interjection, Ron. The tip of his ears turned red as the spotlight turned to him. Everyone looked to see what he had to say. "I just mean..." Ron cleared his throat, "why do you need natural wizards? We've got Aurors, and some of the greatest wizards and witches can do things with wands that are almost as powerful as you can do with that book. I'm going to fight in this war using only my wand; I'm sure there are some 7th years who would fight too, given the chance. Why do you have to summon eleven and twelve year olds with books?" Ron's voice grew stronger as he realized that his point was valid.

There was silence as everyone contemplated this. "Ron brings up an interesting point." Dumbledore chimed in. Hermione witnessed Ron's wide smile, happy to have the Headmaster agree with him. "Giving a child at the tender age of eleven a choice of helping in a war that will save Great Britain, and consequently the world, or saving their family from slaughter... it would be a hard decision for even I to make, and I am hardly eleven."

"Also, how can we send preteens to War?" Lupin said, speaking for the first time that meeting.

"When a child is first introduced to wizardry, they take part in an Ordeal," explained Tom, "This Ordeal tests if the child can make it as a true wizard or not, and it is usually dangerous and life threatening. Think of this war as Great Britain's Ordeal. This is a Wizard's War, so it is a given that it's going to be dangerous. But this is the kind of level that our young wizards face everyday. The things that these two have _done_ in order to save this _universe_ compare little to this War." Tom said gesturing to Kit and Nita. Both of them looked up, startled to have been mentioned in the conversation. They looked like they'd been contemplating something amongst themselves. Nita blushed, and Kit gave a short modest wave. Tom moved on.

"Age is always a poor excuse, especially as young wizards on Ordeal have the most power than any other wizards. Do you remember the three conditions for the Second Great War? There is a reason that duality wizards are needed. The final punch thrown in this war will be that of the Bright One. And there is no way we can unlock the Bright One without using the power of duality wizards. If we are looking to win this war, we are going to need more than one dual wizard. No offense." Tom added to Hermione.

"None taken."

Dumbledore put on his most solemn face, nodding to himself in great thought. "I see. Then I shall start a campaign at Hogwarts. Not every child reads the Daily Prophet and I'm sure that once they hear our side, they will not be so quick to burn those books.

"Now, on the issue of safety, how is Voldemort to know who has taken the Oath? I'm sure that he's counting on the Index of wizards in the back of the book, but we could always give the dual wizards confidentiality against everyone but us." Carl said, looking a lot calmer than his partner. Though Tom seemed to relax more, now that Carl had introduced something that made sense.

Dumbledore nodded. "If you are sure that will work. But what occurs if we don't get the number of dual wizards that we need?

Tom sighed, his face becoming strained again. "Then we make some sacrifices."

No one liked the sound of that, but no one broke the tense silence with objections. When the silence finally broke, it was Professor Dumbledore summarizing the meeting.

"So our army now consists of the Order, as many dual wizards in Hogwarts that we can convince, and... Ron and Harry."

"Right." Carl agreed, nodding.

"And concerning the safety of our youngest soldiers... No one will know who they are."

"Right."

These men stared at each other, each the leader of their part of the army. Dumbledore was head of the Children of the Bright One, Tom and Carl would supervise the dual and natural wizards. When their gazes unlocked, it was as though a contract had been signed. There was no turning back. This is happening, Hermione thought, startled. The Second Great War is happening. And I'm a part of it.

The tense circle broke as people began to rise from their chairs. Hermione stood too, picking up her Manual and preparing to leave. She stopped when she saw Nita and Kit head her way.

"Hey, Hermione." Nita said, giving a small smile. "I saw you in the Manual this morning."

"I'm glad you've joined the team." Kit added. Hermione noticed that they both carried their Manuals at their sides. Hermione was aware of her Manual at her side as well, and smiled.

"Part of a team," Hermione mused, "I like that."

"Yeah, we should get matching jackets, or headbands or something." The three laughed weakly, all wizards glad for some humor after a meeting full of worry. By simply talking to Kit and Nita Hermione felt some of the tension shift from her shoulders. But a look from Ron across the room reminded her that there was still more headache to come, and not only about the war.

* * *

Ron wasn't sure if what he was about to do would be deemed appropriate. After all, the headmaster and he had never had as many one-on-one chats as Harry. And while he did not envy his school's highest authority keeping a careful watch on him, he wondered if Dumbledore's answer would differ if Harry would be the one to ask. Oh, sod it, he thought crossing the small meeting room.

He felt a familiar nervous sensation in his tummy as he approached the silver haired man. Dumbledore still sat at the table. His bony, aged hand was stretched across a few papers that he seemed to be pondering about quietly. Ron hated to break his concentration (would there be a punishment of some kind?) but he had to ask before the opportunity left him. When else would he be in the same room with the Headmaster?

"Professor Dumbledore?" Ron asked, quieter and more timidly than he would've liked to sound. When the professor looked up from his papers and over his half-moon glasses, Ron felt it was time to buck up. He hoped his voice sounded more in control and less like a wimp when he asked, "I would like to receive private training,"

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised a slight, and Ron felt the need to explain himself. "You see professor, I'm not that good," Oh great, now he sounded like Neville, "Rather— I'm going to fight in this war, and I don't want to blasted off the battleground two seconds after I step out. So, er, that's why I'm asking for your help." After a second's thought he added: "Please."

"Of course," said the aged wizard nodding.

Ron was taken aback, shocked, but extremely happy. "Really?"

"Yes. It had always been my intention to instruct you and Harry; you two being neither dual nor natural wizards. Are you willing to give up your Wednesday nights?"

"Yes, sir!" Ron said, grinning now. But Dumbledore shared none of his glee. Instead he stared solemnly at his fifth year student.

"Ronald," Dumbledore spoke, knocking Ron out of his thoughts.

"Yeah—I mean, yes, sir?"

"I hope you realize the severe implications of this. This is a War, Mr. Weasley. I hope that you see beyond today and tomorrow and realize the sacrifices and the pain that comes with war."

Ron's grin was swiftly knocked off his face by the headmaster's grave remarks. He was caught off guard, and struggled to get hold of himself. Softly, he answered. "I do,"

Dumbledore nodded, and then visibly brightened. Although his smile seemed light, there was a bit of the seriousness left behind. "Then I shall see you on Wednesday?"

"Yes, sir."

**Author's Note: I've now learned that any promises I make about the time of the next update will probably mean nothing, so I'm just going to leave you with a "Bye" and a wave.**

**Bye. :waves:**

**lys phillips.**


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